


Find the Alpha

by Heyokaooohshiny



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Incest, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kidnapping, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, Shameless Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:51:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyokaooohshiny/pseuds/Heyokaooohshiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis wakes up to find herself tied up and in her underwear. Is it wrong that the first thing she thinks of is that Tony Stark has played a nasty prank? Well, the jokes on them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is porn people. Pure unadulterated filth. It's not for the squeamish.
> 
> *****Discontinued until further notice*****

Everything was a blur when she woke up. Her last memory was of the lab and collating data with Jane . . . Darcy rolled her head to the side, blinking rapidly as her surroundings spun and dove sharply with vertigo. _Uh, not good._

Where was she? In her room? No. She knew that right off the bat. It was too bright in here, wherever she was, to be her dark little cave of a bedroom. She was on a bed though. That she could confirm. It was a soft mattress with luxurious sheets. A little frown puckered Darcy’s forehead. Did she go drinking? She felt kinda fuzzy…

No. She was certain the last thing she remembered was looking up at Jane. Some noise had distracted them from work and they had looked over at each other. There had been an expression of . . . _alarm?_ On Jane’s face as she looked towards her. Then, nothing.

Darcy wanted to call out for her friend but thought it best to keep quiet until she figured out more about her surroundings. She attempted to open her eyes again, slowly this time, and carefully scanned the space.

It was a large room; sparsely furnished. The interior was white and chrome, illuminated by brightly glowing ceiling lights. She couldn’t help but reminded of a hospital room. A nice hospital room, but still, it was sterile, crisp, clinical. A shiver worked its way up her spine.

Which brought her attention to her attire. Or lack thereof.

Darcy had frozen in place at the realization that she was in a strange bed, in a strange room wearing only her underwear. Her breath stuttered with shock. She self-consciously tried to pull the covers closer around her bare shoulders and received another nasty surprise. Her hands were tied loosely to separate sides of the bed.

“Ohhh, hell no.” She sputtered, sitting straight up in indignation. This had better not be one of Stark’s jokes. ‘Cause his little thing about not liking shit being handed to him?! She was so going to hand him his ASS!!

“Very funny Tony!” Darcy snarled. “Get in here **now** and untie me!!” She sat and fumed for a few moments and nothing happened. “JARVIS? Where is Stark?!”

Again, more silence.

Darcy was rattled by the non-response. “JARV?” She attempted again, in a smaller voice.

_Oh seriously, like, crap._

She tried her best to curl into a huddle. As much of one as she could with ropes anchoring her wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. Little shudders of fear began to climb her spine.

Did the others know she was missing? Hell, were the others okay?! Where was she?  What sick freak of the week thought this plan out? Darcy was so overwhelmed with the riot of her thoughts she almost didn’t hear the subtle change in air pressure.

_Hsssssssss_

When she finally noticed there was something funny with the air in the room, it was probably already too late. Darcy flailed in panic, realizing she was being gassed with something. She tried holding her breath while she tried in vain to pull free of the ropes but they held firm. Her lungs seizing with the need for oxygen, Darcy tried filtering it through the sheets but by now the room was well saturated.  She coughed and gasped for air helplessly, tears of helplessness spilling down her cheeks.

_What am I breathing?_ She agonized. _Are they poisoning me?_

As in response to her fear, her body seemingly shut down. She felt the mattress receiving the weight of her curves. However her pulse still beat in her throat and she could still hear the terrified gallop of her heartbeat.

The hiss of gas faded away to be replaced by what seemed to be a fast-working ventilation system. Darcy noted the goose-flesh of her skin as the cold air suddenly cleansed the room free of contaminated air.

Her heartbeat was just beginning to slow when she noted something very unnerving about herself. Her body was beginning to tingle in arousal. Darcy swallowed convulsively. _No._ She rejected the thought. _This isn’t. **No**._

_I am tied up in a bed_ , she summed up for herself mercilessly, _in my underwear_. _Drugged so I can’t move._ _And may have been given some kind of, what, airborne aphrodisiac??_ _How_ _is this even my life?_

But _why_ would anyone want to do this? To her? I mean yeah she was a smokin’ intern but she was an _intern_. This was a lot of work just to get in her pants. A little something slipped in her drink at the bar would have worked just as well. Yeah, scratch that. If she hadn’t noticed that pathetic attempt at date rapery, she was pretty sure someone like Barton or one of the lesser Shield goons stalking her would have.

She was feeling flushed. Darcy concentrated on the cool sensation of the sheet under her cheek. Without being obvious about it, she tried to ascertain where she was being watched from. She’d be foolish to think, that with this set-up there were no freaking cameras. _I have to get out of here._ There were no obvious mirrors but there were tell-tale divots in the ceiling. She noticed something else that she hadn’t before; there was more than one door.  She counted five without being able to move her head. _I’m in some kind of lab_. Came the horrifying realization.

She was back to the sick freak of the weak theory. Only it didn’t comfort her in any way. Darcy had to hold on to the thought that someone was coming for her (and possibly Jane since they had been together in her last memory). _Jane you better be okay and calling for help_ , she willed. _Please, **please** be calling for help_.

Darcy was trying to concentrate on getting a response from her hands instead of thinking of how her skin was taking on a painfully aware state. She threw all her concentration on trying to get her fingers to work at the ropes. She most certainly did **not** feel how the scratchy lace of her bra pressed down against her throbbing nipples, or how the fabric of her panties was pooling with sticky moisture.  

_Not me_ , she chanted silently. _This is not me it’s the drug._

Her fingers were just starting to twitch when the distraction became unbearable. Darcy clenched her eyes shut and pressed her lips to a thin line in order to keep back the humiliating sounds that threatened to burst free.

The ropes and the fabric of her underwear were starting to drive her slightly mad. She wanted to writhe against their weight; to feel some kind of relief in the friction but her body was still as heavy as unresponsive as a cement block. Which meant with her growing arousal, the weight of these restrictions became a torture.

Darcy let a groan slip out. She tried to catch it but once it was free others followed. She hated the sound of her breathy pleas but it was like someone had covered her in honey and rolled her in fire-ants. Sheer torture.

“Please untie me, please.” She whimpered. “I can’t--”

She heard one of the doors unlock. Her heart skittered in alarm. She felt mixed amounts of relief and fear. Someone was coming to untie her. Darcy’s hazy blue eyes widened. _Shit!_ Someone was coming to untie her!

The door was over her shoulder and out of her line of sight but she could hear some kind of a scuffle. There was more than one person there apparently. Darcy frowned. What was going on--? The back of her neck prickled with unease.

With an _Uff!_ A male someone stumbled into the room and the door shut behind them with an ominous click.

“Uh, who’s there?” Darcy made herself ask. Her stomach flip-flopping queasily.

“Lady Darcy?” a familiar resonant, though rough-sounding voice said with disbelief.

“Thor!” She squealed. “Oh thank, Mew Mew! You’re gonna get me out of here right?”

There was a silence, oddly punctuated by the sound of ragged breathing.

Darcy was distracted again by the surge of blinding need to get free of her restrictions. She mewled. Not realizing she was chanting under her breath, “Off, off, get it _off_ \--!” When the worst of it past she realized she still couldn’t see Thor.

“Thor?” She gulped with a sudden horrible realization. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, but I fear they may have done something equally sinister.” It sounded painful for Thor to speak.

Darcy frowned. _What--?_

When he rounded the bed, she understood immediately. Her eyes widened. “Oh _no_.”

He was naked, and by the look of it, painfully aroused. His broad shoulders were hunched with his fight for control but there was a feral look in his eye that she had never seen before. He was looking at her with a sort of devouring hunger that made her body shiver in response.

“Who caught us?” Darcy demanded, “What do they want?”

She _meeped_ as Thor prowled closer to the bed. She was not used to seeing that sexual hunger directed at her and it was both alarming and blisteringly hot. “Thor! Think of Jane! You _love_ her. She will rip you a new one if you touch me. We have to get out of here!!”

“Jane--” Thor said, his face screwed up in pain.

“Y—yes.” Darcy’s eyes fluttered shut. _Off. Off. GET THE THINGS OFF_. “Thor.” Her voice was amazingly steady, “Could you just untie me? Ohgod Please??” Okay she did her best.

“Of course Lady Darcy,” His voice rumbled through his chest like thunder and went straight to her . . .

Darcy wrenched her thoughts away.  _Brother. Brother. He’s like a brother to me._

With her wrists and ankles blessedly free, her sigh was almost orgasmic. It clearly affected Thor in a visceral way. She saw his cock jump, and for a moment was almost hypnotized by the sight of his hard golden flesh curving to the sharp jut of his hip. _Holy crow_ , Darcy blinked. Her mouth dried.

_No. No! Poptarts!! Thor and Jane TMI in the little flat in London. Eric in his underwear…_

“Do you . . . want this off as well?” Thor asked her, his thumb hooked under the seam of her bra.

Darcy’s eyes almost rolled at the sensation. **_No_** _bad idea!_ “Yes! Oh, god, I can’t th—”

With a sharp tug, the bra was torn off.  Then Thor’s breath was ghosting her erect nipples and Darcy legit forgot how to breathe. His facial scruff teased the soft flesh of her breast and if she could have grabbed his head she would have.

“Thor--!” She groaned.

He licked and nibbled at her rosy pink areola, nosing her nipple teasingly until she thought she would go mad. With his fingers he coaxed the opposite nipple to a stiff peak. Then he switched and the mix of sensations made Darcy’s conflicted body hum.

“So soft,” Thor murmured against her skin. He slid his hands down to cup her ass and lift her so that he could settle his substantial bulk between her legs. Darcy’s breath hitched. He loomed over her like a sculpted mountain.

Okay now it would be good to note that Darcy was for all intents and purposes, a virgin. Like, not the physical kind, cause like a good vibrator will take care of that for you and she was in her twenties. She’d fooled around plenty and had lots of offers but it just never happened. 

The sight of a Norse god kneeling between her thighs shorted out her brain. Probably would have done that anyway even without the drugs. It was like one of her guiltiest fantasies, cause c’mon of course she’d fantasied about tapping _that_. But not for really real. He was her friend, and her best friend’s boyfriend.  There’s no way she would ever do something like this. Neither would Thor. He was honorable. So honorable her ladies barely registered a glance and that was saying something.

His tongue was laving her nipple now; bathing it, flicking at it teasingly. Darcy’s moans increased in pitch. It was _torture_ not being able to move. At the back of her mind she wondered if that wasn’t on purpose. If she didn’t put up a fight, if she _couldn’t_ , it probably made it easier for whatever drug they had given Thor.

He was giving her that feral look again. Darcy could feel a fresh trickle of warmth spill from her center and bit her lip. His nostrils flared in tandem with his pupils blowing wide and she gasped sharply when Thor slipped his free hand between her legs.

His thumb settled over her clit as he slid his first two fingers over her sopped panties. Darcy made a sound between a cry and a whimper as he honed in on her throbbing core. He _hmmed_ with approval as he bypassed the sorry excuse for lace and dipped the tip of his finger past her slick lips.

“Are you wet for me, little Darcy?” Thor’s hungry voice reverberated through her belly.

_Omg. Is that just his **fing-!**_

Darcy’s eyes rolled up into her head as the orgasm that rolled over her was unexpected and fierce.

When her brain was working again, she could feel that Thor’s fingers were still working on her. He had pushed a second digit in and was trying to stretch her out. She felt delicious pings of pleasure mixed with a not so pleasant ache.

“You are so tight,” Thor marveled as her hot silk walls gripped his fingers. His breath harshened with the scent of her arousal. His cock pressed insistently against the soft velvet flesh of her pale thigh.

“I’m . . .” _A virgin_ , Darcy wanted to say, “inexperienced.”

A growl shook Thor’s form. He gripped her thigh tightly as he seemed to fight for control. Darcy whimpered in sudden fear at the transformation. “You . . . are yet . . . a maiden?!” Thor bit out in difficulty.

With Darcy’s hesitant affirmation, Thor swore under his breath, “Ymir’s frosty rim!”

His fingers quivered on her hips. She was sure she would have bruises.

“I am sorry, Darcy,” His voice was strangled, but more Thor sounding than he had been yet. “I cannot seem to stop this.”

Blinking away tears, Darcy knew the feeling. “It’s not your fault.” She whispered.

Breathing heavily, Thor leaned his forehead against hers. As if they were drawn by magnets, his fingers were pulled back to her splayed mound. This time instead of brushing aside her panties, he snapped the fabric impatiently. Her breath hitched. His shoulder was right under her nose and it took up most of her field of vision. It was almost bigger than her whole upper body put together. He was huge! How was he going to—

The head of his cock began rocking against her slick opening. Darcy moaned at the ridged, hot sensation bumping along her clit. He rubbed the glisten of pre-come at the end of his tip into her weeping slit with a guttural moan of his own.

“You cannot move?” Thor asked her gruffly.

“No!” Darcy squeaked.

His corded arms went under the back of her legs and she found her hips lined up with his, her legs open to either side of him. If she’d had the presence of mind to think of the image she made, like a lusty little star fish, Darcy would have been scarlet with mortification. As it was Thor could barely tear his eyes from the unconscious offering she posed. Her long dark hair spread over the sheets in a glorious riot of curls, her delicious pale skin was tipped in a delicate flush of arousal and her lush curves begged for attention.

Thor’s tip felt like he was fisting her. Despite the fact that he had tried to prepare her for his girth, two fingers and an orgasm later she was still woefully unprepared. Darcy groaned into his shoulder as he bore down without further warning.

“God’s above!” Thor shouted as his traitorous body drove into hers.

“ _Aangh!_ ” Darcy cried. _Toobigtoobigtoobig!!!_

Her eyes widened painfully as he attempted to sink to the hilt. Only she didn’t think that was possible. Between their bodies she dazedly watched as his length disappeared into her. A burning, twisting, heat churned in her belly and she lifted her eyes to Thor’s in mute appeal. His whole jaw clenched at the expression on her face.

One hand cupping her ass to hold her hips in place, the other stole to the back of Darcy’s neck where he wound a fist full of her thick hair. He tugged until he could easily plunder her parted mouth.

_Oh gods!_ Thor’s . . . was in her . . . and his tongue was in her mouth . . . doing--! Her mind stuttered at the impossible scene. She never would have believed something like this happening. But here she was. She could _hear_ the sweaty slap of his pelvis snapping against hers. Feel her core being ravished by his punishing member.

Darcy suspected she should have been feeling more pain. But it was hard to think about that when a fat heavy surge of pleasure was rolling over her in redolent waves. She opened her mouth in a silent cry.

“Yes,” Thor grunted, as he felt her hot sheath quivering around his shaft. “You feel so good, little Darcy.”

“Thor!” She whimpered.

His eyes were dark with lust. He threw her legs over his shoulders and hunched over her in renewed vigor. Darcy wailed as this allowed him a deeper angle than before. His tip was driving into her cervix, making her womb spasm uncontrollably.

“So full,” She babbled. Her hands splayed over the rippled planes of his chest. _Huh, I can move again_ , she thought at the back of her overwhelmed mind.

Thor’s golden hair was in her face, the strong line of his jaw prominent in her view as his body rocked into hers. Darcy held on for dear life. “Ohmygodomygo—I can’t—Oomygo--!” Her eyes rolled as once more her body spasmed with heady pleasure.

His voice was just a rumble in her ear, making her shiver in delightful aftershocks. But as her haze lifted the words began to filter through and Darcy couldn’t help but try to squirm away.

“So wet and tight, little one.” He was grunting, with each ball slapping thrust. “I’m going to fill you with my seed.”

Darcy slapped ineffectively at his glistening chest. “No! No, Thor you _can’t!_ I’m not on any birth control!”

He gave a full body shudder. Darcy’s eyes filled with tears. “Please, Thor. Don’t.”

“Gods, yes. I have to.” Thor groaned as though he was in terrible pain. “Need to fill you.”

_What have they done to us?_ Darcy agonized as Thor pawed her breasts, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm. He jackknifed in her slick pussy. Then there was one slow, deep thrust and . . .

Darcy felt an unfamiliar hot pulsing sensation deep within her core. She knew what that meant. Tears spilled down her cheeks and her breath hitched from her chest. Thor groaned long and deep, drawing her naked body closer as though he wanted to thoroughly bury himself in her.

His spend rushed up her channel and spilled out on the sheets beneath her. More as he rocked his hips gently as the aftershocks of his orgasm ebbed away.

Darcy quivered and shook underneath Thor’s heavy twitching body.  She was in shock. _How did this happen?_

Thor was stirring. His thumb swept away the trace of a tear on her cheek. “I am sorry to dishonor you this way, Lady Darcy,” His voice was more like his own and that spurred a fresh wave of tears.

“They d-drugged you,” She shivered. “We need to find a way out of here…”

Thor pressed a heart-breakingly sweet kiss to her forehead, “I swear it.”

He was as gentle as he could be, disengaging from her but Darcy still whimpered at his loss. The embarrassing rush of combined body fluids was also totally mortifying. She didn’t have time to dwell on it however, as suddenly the door that Thor had been introduced to the room, swung open again.

This time Darcy could see the armed figures that loomed in the doorway. They were in full combat gear, faces covered in masks. She gave a frightened sound and Thor swept her behind him protectively with a growl.

By the way his muscles were tensed he was about to launch himself forward, but there was a sharp whistling sound and Darcy realized in horror one of the soldiers had shot Thor.

“Thor!” Darcy screamed.

The thunder god gave a garbled roar of defiance before collapsing heavily on top of her.

“Thor!”

She tried to see what they had done to him but his body was hoisted off of her before she could get a good look. Attempting to scramble out of their reach, Darcy pushed back against the headboard and watched, sick with fear as they dragged the demi-god from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next installment...

As the door swung heavily behind her captors, Darcy searched the sheets for signs of Thor’s blood. Her trepidation drained away sharply when her hunt turned up nothing leaving her wobbly with relief. It must have been a tranquilizer gun. _Thank the gods._

Her relief was short lived. Her head snapped up at the sound of the guards returning. Her heartbeat ratcheted skyward as the anonymous figures darkened the doorway.  Darcy tugged a sheet up to her neck, knowing it was a pathetic barrier at best. She hated how she cowered against the headboard as they stepped closer but she had no illusions about what their plans for her included.

A gloved hand reached for her.

Darcy flinched back. “Get away from me, you sick fuckers!”

She didn’t realize that buddy was just a distraction. She backed right up into the other guards reach and he immediately seized her wrists in his hands and pinned her to the mattress. She landed with an _oomph_.

As soon as she was horizontal, the first guard slapped a mask over Darcy’s face. She screamed as the rubber sealed over her nose and mouth. A strong smelling gas filled her lungs. She tried holding her breath.

When she felt fingers rolling her exposed nipple, Darcy sucked in an involuntary lungful in order to cry out. She kicked and thrashed in an attempt to dislodge them but the guards just shifted until they pinned her thighs down under their knees.

Tears streamed from her wide-rolling eyes. What did they want from her and Thor? _Why_ were they doing this?

The bitter chemical taste coating her tongue reminded her of the gas that had flooded the room earlier. Darcy’s eyes stung at the realization. “Gods _no!_ ” Her protest was muffled by the mask. _Not again!_ She tried to buck them off but the weight of two adult men in addition to being kitted out was more than enough to hold her down.

It was terrifying. To know she was powerless against them. Complete strangers had drugged her against her will and thrown her with an equally affected Asgardian demi-god. Now they were now giving her another dose. What was their sick objective? Blackmail? Torture? Revenge?

Darcy’s struggles weakened as the drug turned her will to smoke once more.

The guards recognized and noted the signs; half-lidded eyes, limp receptive posture, flushed skin, quick and shallow breaths. Satisfied, they removed the mask and released her abruptly.

With the first draught of clean air, Darcy intended to tell them off but found herself making an embarrassing moan instead.  She wanted desperately to roll over and pretend she was alone but she didn’t dare take her eyes away from the guards. She fisted the sheets at her sides and tried to make her awkward squirming as discrete as possible. Fat chance of that though. Stupid gas turned her into a hot mess.

At least the guards were retreating before her reactions transformed them from a threat to something worse. Darcy barely had the presence of mind to tug the sheet back up over her shoulders before she allowed herself the dubious relief/torture of self-pleasure. It was unavoidable; the way her body was screaming at her for release. She slid her hands over the surface of her painfully sensitive skin, cupping her full breasts, dragging her nails over her belly, and then dipping a finger over her swollen clitoris. Darcy bit her lip, inhaling sharply through her nose. The hot, wet, ache at her center only served to remind her of what it had felt like to have a man filling her.

 _Oh god, s’not fair._ Her inner voice whined. She rolled and tweaked a hyper sensitive nipple with one hand while the other was busy rubbing the slick lips of her pussy. She could imagine Thor’s come still leaking between her legs and had to press her burning face against the cool sheets in desire/shame.

“Please…please…” She didn’t realize she was whimpering out loud, so focused on the burning ache that coaxed her hips into a delerious grinding motion.

When the door slammed open with sudden and violent force, Darcy gave a little shriek and tried to focus on keeping herself covered up. Unlike Thor’s entry, whoever the guards were trying to introduce this time, they were not making it easy for them.

Darcy tried seeing who it was but the hallway was a blur of arms and legs. She could hear the painful-sounding _thwack thump_ of hand to hand combat. Somebody was roaring with anger. The bellow of fury and pain struck somewhere deep inside of her and she roused enough to come back to herself a little. _Is that--?_

“Clint?” She uttered in disbelief.

_Oh gods no. Not him._

One of the guards finally got the upper hand. While Clint was unbalanced he shoved the archer bodily into the room and locked the door behind him.

Darcy stared at Clint in thinly-veiled horror. That’s it. This was her own personal hell. That had to be the answer. There was no other reason why someone would a) drug her and make her sleep with her best-friends boyfriend, or b) drug her and trap her in a room with her unrequited crush since _forever._

Clint was crouched, naked, against the wall closest to the door. He was visibly twitching from head to toe. His eyes were blank, dead.

 _Oh god, this is so bad_. Darcy inwardly cringed. _Did they drug him too?_

She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, and she didn’t want to startle him. She knew a little about PTSD and if he was triggered . . . she swallowed nervously. Her intentions though, while shiny with a gold star, were eroded quickly by the drug. Darcy could feel every wrinkle of the sheet against her skin, every thread. She closed her eyes in concentration but the hitch of her breath was enough to garner the attention from the man across the room.

In a terrifying flash he was on top of her, his forearm cutting into her windpipe.

 _Yup he’s been triggered_ , Darcy realized as spots exploded across her vision. Her fingers squeezed helplessly at his arms but they were unforgiving whipcord. There was a sad ache when she realized Clint didn’t recognize her in this state. He was going to feel so guilty…

 _No,_ Darcy held on with slippery fingertips to her consciousness, _I can’t be responsible for that_. She wasn’t going to be another in a long list of ghosts, _albeit a sexy naked one_ —her mind not so helpfully pointed out, to deepen the lines on Clint’s face.

Not sure what she was getting herself into but positive she didn’t want to die. She did the only thing she could do/could think of doing. Darcy rolled her hips against Clint’s bare lap.

She was sure she felt his muscles spasm against her throat but he didn’t let up. Her body was starting to slacken from lack of oxygen. _Please Clint._ She begged him with her eyes. Her hips rolled again, weaker this time.

He released her neck abruptly. The trickle of air that slid down her throat coaxed the paroxysm of coughing that followed. Darcy slung her arms around Clint’s neck as she sucked in uncontrolled gulps of air.

He held himself rigid while she recovered. And by rigid, she meant . . . _he’s been drugged too_ , she confirmed, feeling a little light-headed at the revelation. There was the definite brand of an erection burning against her belly.

Any other time Darcy would have given both her kidneys for the opportunity to be in Clint’s bed. Now though, she knew the circumstances were all wrong. It killed her to see the evidence of his reaction to yet another attempt to make him do something against his will.

_Why the hell would anyone want to do thi--?_

Her line of thought was interrupted by Clint jerking the sheets away from her body. Darcy made a little noise of surprise but consciously didn’t struggle. She didn’t want to make herself seem more of an enemy than he already saw her. She kept her arms loosely draped around his shoulders, and watched cautiously as he studied her body with cold assessing eyes.

She could feel the flush of desire returning to her cheeks. It was only emphasized by her natural attraction to the man. When he clinically dipped his callused index finger into her tight center Darcy bit her lip at the obvious squelching sound she made. Her eyes zeroed in on Clint’s lips as they tightened into a thin line. He buried his finger deep and she could feel him as he began to crook the finger in a ‘come here’ motion. Her breath exploded from her lips and her eyes widened comically.

“Clint!” Darcy yelped.  She squirmed wildly on his hand as he kept up with the motion. He was tapping some soft, tender spot inside her and it was making her legs tremble. She could feel an orgasm building hard and fast. She dropped her forehead to his slick chest with a moan. “Mmm. Oh god--!”

He squeezed another finger in and that was it. Darcy convulsed with a cry. She ground her pelvis mindlessly against his hand as wave after wave of hot sticky need pulsed over her.

Darcy sunk back into the mattress, numb with completion. She felt Clint remove his fingers slowly and she heard herself make a little whimper of loss. She looked at him when she felt something bump her lips. He was holding his fingers out for her to lick. She inhaled sharply, surprised by the stab of lust in her middle.

Her lips parted, her eyes locked with his as he fed her his fingers, slick with her juices. She sucked his fingers deliberately, holding his gaze, wishing it was truly just the two of them and not this fucked up scenario. She flicked her tongue teasingly over his digits, delighting in their rough texture.

She felt him shudder at the sensation and felt a little feminine thrill at knowing she had affected him.

One minute she was looking up at Clint’s blank stare, the next she was face down in the mattress. Darcy blinked in confusion as her brain struggled to catch up with what just happened. _He just man-handled me,_ she realized. He had literally placed one hand on her shoulder and one on her hip and spun her onto her stomach.

Darcy tried to push up on her arms, to look around at him but suddenly found Clint’s hand on the back of her head pinning her back down. “What--?” She stuttered breathlessly. His other hand tugged at her hips, pulling her lower half onto her knees. Oh. _Ohh._

She was so unexperienced. Her fantasies had been pretty wild, and Tumblr was very educational but nothing had prepared her for reality. A lot came naturally. Slot A fit into slot B and all. But nobody ever explained the emotions, and the vulnerability that hitched along for the ride.

The man that she lo—liked, _liked dammit_ , was about to slide his cock into her and he was about as invested in the action as he would have been for the next warm body. Hell, she could have been Loki for all he cared; the drug seemed to be pretty indifferent. But the person behind the drug was as torn up as she was. She knew Thor, she knew Clint, and this was not what they wanted. They didn’t want _her_. That was the clincher. That’s what choked her up as Clint lined himself up with her hips. There was a not so small part of her that wanted him, had wanted him, for a while now. But he didn’t feel that way back. This was against his will. If they got out of here, it would be awkward between them. It was never going to be the same. She was likely going to lose what friendship she had with him.

She felt Clint run the pad of his thumb over her slit, and then the unmistakable head of his cock followed. He coated his tip in her slickness before bearing down on her entrance.

“Hohgod,” She moaned, bracing her hands by her head.

With one sharp thrust, Clint sunk home.

Darcy scrabbled for a hold of the sheets. He didn’t waste any time and began a brutal and demanding pace. She cried out as he switched from holding her head down to grabbing a handful of her dark hair and pulling back on it like reins.

Her bouncing nipples dragged against the rucked up sheets with each jarring thrust. Darcy whimpered helplessly. She could feel her body becoming supple with want. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

“Please,” She babbled, “please Clint, please--!”

He growled. The hand in her hair slid around to her neck and his fingers squeezed to cut off her litany. “Shut. Up.” He hissed in his gravelly voice. Darcy shivered at the threat. The sound of his voice did wonders to her body though. Her pussy clenched around his shaft and he let out a reluctant groan.

Holding her unnaturally arched, like his favorite composite bow, Darcy felt herself unravelling. She tried to thrust herself back on his cock but he held her painfully still. She quivered violently as her orgasm waited infuriatingly on the edge.

 _Please,_ she mouthed silently.  

As if he heard her, Clint slid his hand from her hip, around to her mound and flicked her clit hard.

Darcy couldn’t make any noise with the hand around her throat but her whole body seized as her orgasm hit her. His concrete arms banded around her, holding her up as he kept thrusting relentlessly. When he loosened his grip on her throat, the oxygen that slipped into her bloodstream triggered another orgasm so soon after the first she blacked out briefly.

As she swam back to consciousness, the first thing she noted was the animal-like sounds in her ear.

Her limp body was cradled in Clint’s as he snarled and cursed like a trapped wolf. His pelvis was locked tight to hers and she could feel the steady pulse as he released his seed deep within her.

Moved like she had no right to be, Darcy tried to blink the tears from her eyes before he noticed.

His body sated, Clint fell beside her on the mattress. He kept one wary arm around her waist. Darcy looked wistfully at his strong fingers and wished she dared entwine hers with his. She contented herself with memorizing the feel of his six (eight? twelve?) pack against her back and _those_ arms under her breasts.

Of course as with Thor, they didn’t have long to regroup.

This time, the interruption came from the hissing noise from the ceiling.

Darcy looked upwards in dawning apprehension. “Oh no.”

Clint coiled up into a crouch, studying the ceiling with a hooded expression.

“We don’t have much time,” Darcy said her throat tight. “They’re gassing us with something.” She reached out for him, her hands open and hopefully non-threatening. “I just,” She swallowed when he allowed her to touch his face, his blue eyes unreadable. She tried unsuccessfully to unfurrow his brow, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” She placed her hands on either side of his face and nuzzled her nose against his lovely broad one. “I’m sorry Clint.”

She pulled back with a sad smile. The smell of the gas was starting to tease her senses and obviously it was affecting her nerves because she sat back on her ass rather abruptly.

Clint fell forward and they hit the mattress together. He tried to angle his fall slightly to the side so he wouldn’t crush her. But as it was she was pretty smooshed. She didn’t mind too much. It was a nice view, for the last thing to see before gods knew what else.

He turned his head with some difficulty, and she could see a struggle going on in his eyes. He lifted his hand and touched her mouth with his fingers. Darcy tried to smile for him.

“Aw, Darcy,” He panted, “No.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this out. Had a computer 'splosion. I'm back and I'm hope this was worth the wait! ;)

She didn’t want to wake up. It was so nice to linger in the forgetfulness of sleep. Everything was heavy and blissfully numb. There was no need to remember why she shied away from consciousness; there was just the way her body felt like it was floating on a soft warm cloud. She decided she wanted to stay there indefinitely.

It was not to be.

There was a sharp pinch on the inner flesh of her arm and she whined a sleepy protest.

“Time to wake up,” a tinny sounding voice told her, “you have a few minutes for breakfast, don’t waste them.”

Darcy’s eyes flew open as the sound of a voice being recycled through a mask broke through her drugged haze. She flopped weakly on the bed, her heart skipping and stuttering in turn.

She only caught the flash of the guard’s uniform before the door was closing to her room with a final sounding _cluh-chunk_. Despite of herself, she looked hopefully for the aforementioned food. Thor’s hammer, she was starving.

 _Wait, wait a sec_ , Darcy scolded herself in mid scramble. _What’s the last thing you remember?_

Crinkled blue eyes…a hoarse voice saying her name…

Her chest tightened. _Clint._

They took him away, like Thor. _Why?_ Darcy pressed her palm to her forehead and fought back the frightened burn of tears. What could the bad guys possibly get from forcing two Avengers to sleep with her? Other than totally pissing them the fuck off (and ruining her life)?

Her eyes settled on the tray of food on the floor by the door. Her stomach flipped uneasily at the thought of going anywhere near where the guards could grab her but the hollow gnawing of her ribs coaxed her from the bed.

She moved warily, and with a tenderness she was just discovering. Her face grew warm at the reminder why her legs and hips were burning. _‘Cause your blushing virgin bod just got rocked by two seriously equipped superheroes_ , her unfiltered brain pointed out. _Take **that** sociallyawkward high-school phase!_

If she could groan at herself she would. Seriously brain? Not helping.

She reached the tray without mishap and backed up warily with her eyes on the door. The smell of food was killing her but she looked at the spread with suspicion as she settled cross-legged on the mattress and pulled the tray into her lap.

There were strawberries, and yogurt. Toast, and coffee. Her fingers trembled as she fought for restraint. How long had she been here? Definitely the better part of a day. Hopefully no more than two, but she couldn’t tell with the stupid drugs. Hel--lo was that Starbucks coffee--?

 _Oh god, nope. No. Nuh. Coffee. I just can’t._ Darcy picked up the mug with both hands in order not to spill the contents. _Bastards know my weakness._ She took a reverent sip of the dark beverage and reconnected with the heaven that was caffeinated life force. _This could be full of bath salts and I could be on my way to eating faces off people but I don’t even care._

She must have taken too long savoring her sunshine in a mug because before she knew it, the door to her cell was being pushed open. _Shit!_ Darcy gulped the remainder of her coffee, glaring balefully at the guards as she did it.

“Is that Starbucks?” a familiar voice perked up.

“Stark?” she gasped out his name in mid swallow so of course her last mouthful of coffee went down the wrong pipe. She buried her face and her humiliation in a pillow until the paroxysm of coughing eased.    

“Boobs?”

She rolled her eyes. _Of course_. Why couldn’t they just kill her now and get it over with?

Tony Stark was standing at the entrance to her room for all the world as if he was taking the grand tour. The guards surrounded him warily but the billionaire superhero was acting as though walking through halls, naked and aroused and under heavy guard, was an everyday thing for him.

For all she knew, it probably was. Darcy fought the urge to do another eye roll. They were in some serious shit. The least she could do was be serious for the both of them.

“Hey, Stormtrooper, can we get some more coffee?” Tony asked the guard on his left. “That would be great, thanks.” He brushed past his escort and entered the room without a fuss. Darcy wasn’t sure the extra stillness of the guards was from shock or from waiting for further orders. She watched them uneasily.

It felt like hours but it was probably only a few seconds before something was passed from one guard to the next. The one closest to the door set it inside before sealing the room shut once more. She blinked at the thermos in incomprehension.

Darcy didn’t let herself relax. _Three!! Three Avengers_! Her eyes were wide as she followed Stark as he carefully examined her room. He was muttering to himself but she couldn’t make out what he was saying past the roar drowning out all sound.

She felt faint. Is it just me? Doesn’t Tony hear that noise? She wondered faintly.

A pair of fingers were snapping in front of her face. Darcy jerked back in surprise and sucked in a startled breath.

“Breathe Lewis,” Tony commanded. “You’re not breathing.”

Darcy gasped raggedly for air when she realized he was right. The roar diminished until it was just her panicked heartbeat throbbing in her throat. “How many?” She forced herself to ask.

He spared her a glance, pouring coffee from the thermos into her mug. “What’s that?”

“How many of us did they capture?” Darcy accepted the mug he held out to her, careful not to touch him in any way.

He frowned, “I don’t know. Last thing I remember was the attack at a Conference. I saw Clint but I don’t know if they caught him or not. I haven’t seen anyone else, until now. What about you?”

Her fingers tightened around the mug. “Clint and Thor. They’re here too.”

“You saw them?” Tony asked tightly.

Darcy nodded, lowering her eyes. _I can’t tell him about . . ._

“Fuck,” He swore. “I was hoping…”

She swallowed a mouthful of coffee, trying to hide her shaking hands.

He noticed.

His dark brows drew together in concern, “You okay kid?”

 _Great actually, the badguys are making me a real Avengers groupie. Got my V card stamped by a God and everything_ , she swallowed her sarcastic response along with another mouthful of bitter coffee.

“Yeah,” was what she said out loud.

Stark’s dark brown eyes called bullshit.

“Y’know the coffee’s drugged right?” He mentioned casually. He took a swig from the thermos.

Darcy’s shoulders dropped. “God dammit.” She sighed. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

One eyebrow raised.

She shrugged and took another sip of coffee. “It’s this or getting gassed. I like the Starbucks option.” _Am I even having this conversation?! With my naked boss?!!_

Stark pursed his lips. “At least you got to have a shower.”

Darcy froze. _What?_

For the first time since she woke up, Darcy took stock of herself and found that Stark was telling the truth. With a shaking hand, she reached up to pull her hair over her shoulder and saw that it was freshly washed and brushed, with a slight hint of frizz (who brushes curly hair—c’mon!)

She started to shake. _They gave me a shower? While I was unconscious?!_ With everything that had happened to her so far this was the most intrusive and disturbing. Tony must have grabbed her mug because she wrapped her arms around herself and tried (and failed) not to whimper. _Oh god? What else did they do to me while I was out?_ She panicked. The thought of a stranger having that much freedom with her naked body was absolutely sickening.

“Hey, hey, easy kid. Don’t lose it on me.” Stark was saying. He was hovering by her side totally at a loss for what to do.

If it was any other situation, she would have had a fit of giggles at the sight of a naked Tony Stark mentally flapping his hands at her but it was so far from funny right now Darcy actually hitched a sob at the thought.

He made a noise, “I shouldn’t--” Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, his body pointed away carefully. They were both ticking time bombs.

Darcy folded into his side like a proverbial stack of cards.

“God dammit,” Tony sighed. He tugged her closer, his nose pressed into her crown. “I take it the shower was under sedation.”

She nodded against his shoulder with a shiver.

“Fucking shitholes,” He swore into her hair. “When we get out of here—” The threat was chill in his voice.

She let herself be soothed by the rumble of his voice under her cheek. He was warm. She wanted to press against him more fully but held back, recognizing the signs of the drug beginning to take over. Tears pricked her eyelids.

This was so _wrong!_ Why was this happening?

“You should…should eat something,” Tony said gruffly.

 _I should_ , Darcy agreed silently. _But I’m not sure I could keep it down_. Her stomach was a mess of nerves now.

“So I take it,” Stark smacked his lips, “from the distinctive chemical cocktail added to the Coffee that is not Starbucks derivative the Stormtroopers want us to fuck?”

“Oh god,” Darcy groaned. “You are so subtle.”

“This is about as subtle as Coulson’s crush on Cap.”

There it was again. The urge to roll her eyes.

Darcy’s lack of shock was telling. Stark whirled around. “Lewis, have they done this to you already?” He gripped her shoulder tightly and peered into her face searchingly.

She bit her lip hard, unable to meet his eyes.

“Holy fuck.” Stark growled. He remembered her comment earlier. “They gassed you?”

She nodded slowly. Feeling the hot wave of shame swell over her.

“Lewis . . . **_Darcy_** _,_ is that how you know Clint and Thor are here?” He persisted.

She couldn’t help it, a tear slipped down her cheek. _God dammit._

“Oh _shit._ ” Tony breathed. “Oh **_shit!_** ” And with that, his blasé clown act was gone. He pushed away from the bed abruptly and strode on stiff legs to the other side of the room. Darcy dug her fingers in the sheets in order not to reach for him. The loss of heat was almost painful. She drew into herself, pulling back against the headboard.

Despite herself, she examined his physical form while his attention was elsewhere. He was smaller in stature than the other Avengers but he was very well-built; compact and athletically muscular. She’d seen him in his lab once, practicing Wing Chun in one corner. If she had to describe him with one word, it would be _carved_.

Mentally giving her head a shake, Darcy reminded herself that her _boss,_ the annoying, boundary disrespecting, _billionaire_ , was old enough to be her _dad_. While yes he was pretty, she should not be having the totally inappropriate thought about what it would like to lick that attractive hollow over his hip…

Darcy sank deeper into the pillows, closing her eyes tightly. If she lived through this she was so utterly _ruined._ She fleetingly hoped that the Hulk got a chance to stomp on the ‘Stormtroopers’ before the authorities got a chance to apprehend them. If any gods were listening…

“Darcy, stop. You’re killing me with those noises,” Stark said in a tight voice.

She realized to her humiliation that she was moaning quietly. Darcy hauled a pillow over her head and wished she could disappear. She wished she had more of Starks seeming restraint, frustrated tears seeped from between her eyelids and dampened the sheet beneath her cheek. Her body felt like it was being lit on fire slowly. It was slow torture.

The bed sank to the side as Stark’s weight joined her. She heard him sigh. “Sorry kid, this isn’t your fault.” He pulled the pillow off her head, and looked down remorsefully on her tearful face.

“I know you d-don’t want this,” Darcy’s breath hitched.

“Hey, I’m guessing you’re not exactly on my belle du jour list,” He responded wryly, then he added, “if I still had a “bdj” list which I don’t. ‘Cause Pepper.”

His brows collided as he closed his eyes in visible pain.

“I’m so sorry,” Darcy said hoarsely. She was trying to breathe slowly and evenly and keep the rocking of her hips to an absolute minimum. His nearness was escalating things though and they were leaning towards each other before they realized it.

“I don’t know why they want us to do this,” Tony said between clenched teeth, he buried his hands in Darcy’s tousled chestnut hair and dug his fingers into her scalp. He tilted her head until he was sure she was paying attention to him, “but Lew—Darcy, you don’t deserve this kid. I’m sorry this is happening.”

“Me too,” Darcy gasped, “Tony. Not your fault either.” She planted her palms on his chest and almost moaned again at his radiating heat. Her fingers passed over the scar where his arc reactor used to be and he hissed as the sensitive flesh tingled with almost painful intensity. Her fingers trailed lower, following the line of his clenching abdominal muscles to the rigid bobbing cock that curved into his belly.

“Shiiit,” Tony groaned as her fingers wrapped tentatively around his length. She curled her legs underneath herself and leaned closer, licking her lips as she slowly stroked him.

Darcy was unaware of the image she made, sitting coyly on her heels, biting her full lips, watching curiously as his cock throbbed in her hand. Her long hair spilled down her back and over one shoulder, curling teasingly around one full breast.

She reminded him of a . . .

“You haven’t done much of this before have you?” He said abruptly. Cursing as her thumb swept over his seeping velvety tip. His muscles involuntarily spasmed with pleasure. He hissed.

Darcy looked up at him with a self-conscious pout. “Not so much no. Why am I doing it wrong?” She made to pull her hand away but he stopped her, placing his hand over hers.

“No, fuck. It feels amazing,” Tony groaned, thrusting into her soft palm, “You just look like you’ve never given a hand job before.”

“That’s ‘cause I haven’t” She retorted, her blue eyes hurt.

Tony winced. “Cheesus Crackers. I’m am going to the Helliest of Hells aren’t I?”

Her fingers tightened on him and she put a little twist into her wrist action.

_Christ._

“Nah, I think that is reserved for the despoilers of Starbucks beverages.” Darcy said in an attempt to be light.

Tony tugged her against his chest, pinning her arm between their bodies and flipped her so that she was laying down on her back and he was between her legs. Darcy stared at him with an exposed expression on her face. He dipped his head and pressed a fleeting kiss to her mouth before hunching over her breasts.

She chewed on her lip nervously as he weighed her round globes in his hands.

His trademark smirk broke out, “I’ve been waiting _forever_ to check these sweater puppies out.”

That almost brought a smile to her face but then his mouth was covering her nipple and she was gasping at the pleasure that jolted her body. It was like a current was drawn straight from her throbbing nipples straight to her clit. Darcy squirmed with a pathetic sounding whimper of need.

He bathed her rigid nipple with his hot tongue, blowing air over it teasingly before switching to its twin. Darcy tossed her head, her mouth dropping open with desire as he suckled.

“Fuck--!” Her whine was high pitched. Her fingers wound into his spiky dark hair and tugged. She could feel his scratchy grin imprinted on her flesh. He reached up with one hand to tug and twist at the unoccupied nipple. Any other time, Darcy would have slapped someone right out of bed for trying something like that, but with the drugs in her system, the pain was transformed into something more than bearable.

“Stark!” Darcy cried.

He reached down with his other hand and tested her wetness. His finger dragged along her slit and found her seeping. “Oh yeah,” He growled. She found her tits suddenly abandoned and her hips hoisted into the air abruptly. She squeaked in surprise when she looked down to see Tony’s face level with her pussy. He winked at her before he ran the point of his tongue along her wet slit from front to back.

“Oh my god!” Darcy yelped, her legs trembling in his hands. This time her eyes rolled for a completely different reason. She had done this once before. Like _once._ When she was 9, with her cousin Sharon. They were just curious and it felt good but **_holyfuckinghomigod_** this was totally different.

He was lapping her clit wetly, tonguing her with the slow patience that belied his own drugged state. Darcy flailed, crying out incoherently as he wrung pleasure from her with smug experience. Stark placed one firm, heavy hand on the flat plane of her belly and rubbed his face into her dripping center. The coarse grind of his goatee in combination with the slick insinuation of his tongue pushed Darcy over the edge. She convulsed with a sharp cry, locking her thighs around his head.

As the intense currents of pleasure jolted through her belly, Darcy tried to squirm away from his mouth, which was still relentlessly working on her.  “Tony!” She sobbed. Her eyes shot open when she felt him push two fingers inside her. He worked them in hard and deep while sucking her clit into his mouth and flicking her swollen tender nub with the tip of his tongue.

Darcy’s legs quivered. A gush of fluid coated Tony’s fingers and chin. She cried out, her quavering wail filling the room as she came again violently.

He eased off, feeling her silken walls clamp down on his fingers temptingly. Tony’s cock throbbed in anticipation of sinking into her tempting warmth.

Darcy watched Tony through half-lidded eyes. His hour-glass shaped goatee was shiny with her slickness. She couldn’t even find the energy in herself to feel self-conscious. What even was that?

He sat back, his cock jutting skyward.

“Darcy?” Tony asked gruffly.

“Please,” She answered him breathlessly.

He nodded shortly.

She did her best to help him with limbs that still felt like Jello. He drew her up into his lap, arranging her so that she was facing him, her knees settling on either side of his hips. He guided her down onto his rigid column of flesh, his hands cupping her ass. Darcy’s lips parted with a gasp as he sank into her.

Still very sensitive, she could feel herself twitching against the firm press of his flesh. Tony’s fingers dug into her as he filled her to the hilt. Darcy’s breath hitched. She rested her forehead on his corded shoulder.

With his hands planted on the firm flesh of her behind, Tony began to roll her hips on his cock.

He gritted his teeth against the urge for release building so swiftly. Darcy was so soft and curvy in his arms. Her soft cries inflamed him. The fact that she was so inexperienced was **_fuck_ ** so enticing and damning at the same time.

Darcy was coming around slowly. She was beginning to meet his thrusts, letting her head hang as the pleasure overwhelmed her. Every once in a while she would catch a glimpse of their joined bodies and the sight would make her quake.

“Feels so good,” She cried softly.

Stark jackknifed at her words, feeling his balls draw up in preparation. “Oh yeah,” He leaned forward, suspending Darcy in his arms, “Jeezus fuck kid, gonna blow.”

She whimpered helplessly. Hanging onto his shoulders for dear life, she felt Stark’s gliding motion stutter. He threw his head back and his face went slack as he came.  Darcy closed her eyes and felt the now familiar warm pulse of come inside her. She was surprised by her own sneak orgasm as it crept up on her like a gentle warm wave.

Tony dropped to the mattress, Darcy firmly locked beneath him, quivering with little gasps.

His lips were right next to her ear, “Don’t say anything. I’ve contacted J.A.R.V.I.S. he’s trying to get help.”

Darcy could weep. Instead she buried her face in his neck and took deep gulps of air trying to compose herself. “How?” She asked disbelievingly.

He pulled back, to shoot her a tired not-quite-grin. “I _am_ Iron Man.”

“They’re going to come for you, now that we’re . . . done.” Darcy said awkwardly. She couldn’t help it, she held tighter to his shoulders.

Tony pressed a kiss to her forehead, “I know it’s not any consolation, just stay alive okay? We’ll get out of here.”

Her eyes were wet as he pulled away from her, tucking the blanket around her protectively. He winked at her before he turned to the door and knocked imperiously. “Conjugal visits over. I’d like one of those showers now.”

The door opened after a moment, and Darcy couldn’t help her disbelieving snort as once again Tony Stark was ‘escorted’ back to his cell in style.

Left alone again, she drew the sheets to her shoulders and couldn’t help but wonder what was next.


	4. Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been such a hella long time between updates. You would not believe my life. Don't worry though I don't plan on giving up on either of my stories. 
> 
> This chapter comes in two bits. Don't hurt me! It's hard writing all that hotness at once!!
> 
> And I have no beta so if there are woopsies I claim them in the name of passion.

It was the longest uninterrupted time Darcy had spent conscious since first waking up in this horrible place. She wasn’t sure what to think. With Tony’s last words stuck on repeat in her mind, she couldn’t help hoping that the lull was due to a rescue in progress.

She huddled under her sheet, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The silence of the room was starting to press down on her. There was too much time for contemplation and her mind was no longer in any state for reflection.

Instead of cataloguing the bruises that were starting to wreathe her body in an intimate map of fingerprints Darcy focused on the thread count of the white sheet she was picking apart with nervous fingers. 

Who did Jarvis have left to muster a rescue? Half of the Avengers were _here_. So that left Captain America, Black Widow, and the Hulk. Normally just one of the aforementioned would’ve been enough to give Darcy the confidence in a successful rescue attempt, but it was the knowledge that whoever had kidnapped her and the others had effectively _neutralized_ half the team. What if the others were captured too?

The fabric was beginning to fray under her worried nails.

Why did they need her, like _this_? Naked and . . .  what the hell was this about--!? Darcy’s thoughts finally couldn’t avoid the obvious for any longer. She could maybe understand if this was some twisted attempt to ruin the Avenger’s image or something but if she admitted it to herself, this felt much more involved than that. This felt . . . like an experiment.

Darcy shivered. _Oh fucking fuck_. What kind of sick . . .

The familiar and terrifying sound of gas being released into the room on the heels of Darcy’s dawning realization was the final straw. She flung herself from the bed before she realized what she was doing. She backed up, clutching the sheet around her shoulders and babbled as the gas continued to pour from the ceiling. “Somebody help! I can’t—”

_I can’t **do** this again!_

As she crashed to her knees from the effects of the gas all she could think about was that Tony was wrong. Nobody was coming to rescue them. They were all _here_.

Bitter frightened tears splashed the floor by her splayed hands. “Please stop this!” She continued to plead.

The gas didn’t seem to contain the sedative this time, Darcy remained painfully aware that she was a vulnerable heap on the floor. _Like I’m safer on the bed_ , her brain supplied bitterly. The invasive warmth of the aphrodisiac stole over her limbs and turned her into a breathless limp puddle of want.

She didn’t want to think about who was going to come through those doors next. That’s what this meant right? They were prepping her. _Again_. Darcy’s breath came out in a cluster of sobs. It was obvious that her life was worthless to whoever was running this twisted nightmare; they were steadily destroying whatever tenuous relationship she had with her peers. Not like she was anyone special to the Avengers. She was Jane’s goofy intern. So she had tazed Thor and was like his surrogate kid sister ( _not anymore_ , she thought with a heavy lurch) when, _if_ , this was all over she was going to be an awkward, glaring, reminder of this kidnapping; this mutual rape.

The ventilation system was cleared the room of gas. Darcy huddled under the sheets fighting the desire to stay covered with the urge to kick the fabric away from her supersensitive skin.

The door to her room hissed open and it took all Darcy’s willpower not to crawl towards the guards like a cat in heat. She pressed her cheek against the cool floor instead, panting shallowly through her parted lips.

Two large forms were manhandled into her cell and Darcy froze at the sight.

“Take the collar off him!” Steve Rogers growled at the guard that shoved the Winter Soldier into the room before him.

“It stays on, _Captain_ , to ensure your cooperation.” One of the guards responded with his strangely filtered voice.

“Cooperation in what exactly?!” Steve demanded. The only hint of his discomfort with this highly unorthodox state being the dark flush that spread from his face down his (illegal in all 50 states) chest.

Darcy’s eyes flitted over to Barnes to see that the dark haired man did indeed seem to have a silver device cuffed around his neck. His cold blue eyes were scanning the room and zeroed in on her almost instantly. His frowny dark brows did a downward swoop. Without taking his eyes off her he said, “Steve.”

Steve was burning holes in the back of the guard’s heads with his glare. His fists were clenched, his knuckles white with strain. “What?” When Bucky didn’t answer him right away he reluctantly turned his gaze away from the closing door to his best friend. Eyebrows raising, he followed Bucky’s gaze.

“Oh no.” He breathed.

He moved so swiftly Darcy barely had the chance to cry out, “Don’t touch me!” before he was skidding across the floor to her on his knees.

She had to hand it to super soldiers though, Steve was right _there_ but Barnes heard the warning in her cry and had reacted to that instead. Just as Steve was about to lay his hands on her, Barnes hooked his metal arm under Steve’s armpit and lifted him right off the floor.

“What the hell Buck?”

“She said don’t touch.”

Steve jerked away from Bucky’s grip with a red face. The movement had put him in contact with _way_ more of his buddy than was respectable. They had been naked around each other before, yeah. Close confines in the army and all that but _this_. . .

Fighting for composure (as much composure as you can with an inappropriate raging hard-on), he turned to Darcy. “Miss Lewis are you injured?”

She wanted to scream and swear and generally lose her shit. Mostly though, she wanted to climb them both like a stripper pole.

“Not injured, no.” Darcy tried not to moan. It still came out a bit too breathy for her likes.

“Are you okay?” Steve rephrased his question cautiously.

Her laugh sounded suspiciously like a sob. “No?”

“Will you let me help you?”

“You won’t have a choice.” Her strange answer followed what definitely sounded like a sob.

“Wh--?”

Bucky interrupted him, his face dark, “It smells like sex in here.”

Steve made a squeaking sound as his _‘What?!’_ aborted in his throat.

Darcy buried her face in her arms. _Oh god, please let me die_. _I can’t . . . with Steve Rodgers! He sounds more inexperienced than I was . . . earlier._

“Lewis . . . explain.”

To his credit, it sounded like Barnes tried to take the edge out of his words. Darcy swallowed heavily as she tried to find a thread of concentration. It was hard to think when her impulse was to lick a trail along Bucky’s devastating happy trail. Instead, she tried to sneak a hand between her thighs to ease the consuming ache.

Her voice was tight, “They’ve been drugging me and using me as an Avengers sex toy. Don’t know why.” She had to stop and bite her lip as a moan welled up.

“Well, that explains the gas.” Barnes said in a monotone.

Steve whirled around. He leaned against the wall closest to him. “This is no time to be making a joke, Bucky.” He said in a strained voice.

Darcy didn’t think it sounded like a joke, but then he wasn’t her best friend. She couldn’t claim to understand all Barnes’ stoic expressions. Her eyes landed and then froze on the sight of Steve’s sculpted form as he leaned against the wall. _Holy weeping mother of baby eagles look at those muscular ass cheeks_ . . . Unknowingly, she worried her lower lip between her teeth.

“Who else is here?” Barnes ignored Steve. His eyes were unnaturally focused on Darcy’s luscious mouth.

“Everyone except Natasha and Banner.” Darcy admitted softly.

**_SLAM_ **

Darcy squeaked in surprise as Steve threw a hard punch at the wall, his muscles rippling with fury.

“Raaarraggh!!” Bucky suddenly roared. He dropped to his knees as the device around his neck crackled with electricity. His fingers dug under the edges of the collar in an attempt to pry it off but the charge only increased in power.

“Bucky!!” Steve bellowed. He pried his fist from the plaster and dove for his buddy.

Darcy had struggled to her knees, “What’s going on?!”

There was no answer as Steve reached for the collar. Darcy shrieked for him to stop, she couldn’t watch them _both_ get electrocuted but before he could make contact the cuff went quiet and Barnes sagged against Steve’s shoulder.

She was so relieved they were okay she didn’t even notice she had left her sheet behind until both sets of blue eyes were focused on her in that feral hungry way she recognized from the drug. Darcy tried to swallow around a dry throat but settled for worrying her lip with her teeth. She lifted her heavy sluggish arms in an attempt to shield her nudity.

“Don’t.” Bucky said harshly. “Just. Don’t move.”

Darcy froze. She shivered as the bass of his voice physically pulled a response from her body. Her nipples tightened into hard little nubs. She must have made some kind of small noise because Steve through his arm out to hold back Barnes as his pupils narrowed to tiny focused pinpricks and his muscles shifted as he prepared to lunge forward.

“We can’t Buck.” Steve said between gritted teeth.

“I know.” Barnes growled, not taking his eyes from her. Darcy saw his pecs quiver around Steve’s splayed hand. Her eyes were drawn downward against her will to his stiffening cock and saw the glisten of pre-come pearling at the tip.

She made a strangled noise.

The man who was formerly the Winter Soldier swore a harsh stream of expletives in Russian and in English. Steve tightened his lips until they were a stressed white line. “This is wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy gasped.

Self-recrimination flashed across Steve’s face before he was stretching out an apologetic hand towards her, “God no, this isn’t your fault!” He blurted.

Her lips wobbled and Darcy struggled to maintain composure. He was trying so valiantly to deny the urges that had to be burning him alive right about now. Her own traitorous body was flushed and hot, had her physically yearning their touch.

“Why did they make you wear a collar?” Darcy changed the subject with difficulty and turned her brimming eyes to Barnes. His were narrow with focus and she guessed they didn’t miss a thing. As an answer, he rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Keep me compliant.”

Steve snorted without amusement. “More like neutralize me. I won’t try anything while he’s wired like that.”

Darcy knew about the iconic friendship that spanned decades, she’d seen glimpses of it in the Tower. It was different here though, raw and unfiltered.

“Don’t be fucking stupid!” Barnes snarled, “If there’s an opening you take it! Y’hear me?!”

Steve looked mutinous. “Not happening.”

Barnes’ jaw worked furiously.

Darcy thought of something that they hadn’t and felt the ice of realization skate down her back like cold fingertips. If their kidnappers were waiting for them to . . . to do the deed (Gosh, Darcy _really?_ ) and had already punished Barnes when Steve punched the cell wall, what would happen when the three of them tried to delay the inevitable?

She gasped for air, her heartbeat tripling as her anxiety spiked. She couldn’t let Barnes get _hurt_ because of her. They were heroes!! Who was she?! A coffee-fetcher, a Pop-tart warmer, a—a _fricken_ collator. She didn’t even have a diploma (thanks, Shield/Hydra). Now some faceless enemy was using her to destabilize the team?

“Miss Lewis?”

Steve’s voice was filled with concern and her breathing hitched.

She stared back at him for a moment. _I’m damned no matter what I do,_ she realized with a sharp pang of regret. If she had to choose, and she did, she would make the choice that would be least harmful to the others.

“Steve--?” She said his name breathlessly. The naked want in her voice was undisguised and sincere. When she lifted her eyes she saw his face screwed up as though in pain. “Steve, _please_.”

She could hate herself later, in private. Right now she had to stop thinking and just feel.

Darcy leaned forward, bracing herself on one arm as she cupped one of her breasts in her hand. She bit back a moan as the sensitive flesh responded to the contact by sending a pulse of tingling heat straight to her groin.

Both men let out noises that seemed to vibrate against Darcy’s skin. Steve’s sharp inhale of breath was followed by a strangled groan while Bucky cursed again, the sound low and resonating.

She couldn’t see the vision she made, but to the two men, she was all soft curves. From the way she was kneeling, offering herself, they had an eyeful of her luscious pink tipped breasts, full hips, and tiny waist.

For a wavering moment, Darcy wondered if she made a mistake. They both seemed frozen and she hoped it wasn’t from repulsion. With some hesitation she crawled towards Steve, keeping her eyes lowered, unable to look him in the eye to confirm her fears. _I have to try!_

The way Steve scrambled to his feet seemed to substantiate her thought that he was offended but by now the drug had a serious hold and it pulled her towards his heat and the heady scent of his maleness. He held himself stock still as she rubbed her head against his thigh with a whimper, “S’sorry Steve--!” She gulped shakily.

Steve made a noise like a mangled version of “God” and “Fuck”. His hand settled shakily in her hair as she nosed the fine hair on the inside of his leg.

When he didn’t immediately push her away, Darcy looked up at him through her eyelashes. It felt like she was looking up, up, and _uuuup_. Past the long column of his bobbing erection, through the tight curl of dark golden pubes that sparsed out as they neared his tanned flat bellybutton, through the incredible carved valley that were his abs and over his impressive mountainous chest. Steve’s head was bowed, his smoky blue eyes half-lidded. His trickster lips were parted breathlessly.

Darcy didn’t have any practical experience with blowjobs but something more than bravery was curling in her gut, making her bolder than she normally would dare. She trailed the tip of her nose against his thigh, closer to the hot ridge of flesh that bobbed next to her ear and then exhaled a shaky sigh against his flesh, barely brushing his sensitive skin with her lips. She could feel his fingers twitch on her scalp but he didn’t push her or guide her in any way. If the rigidity in his muscles was any indication, it was taking all his willpower not too.

She let her tongue dart out and lick a trail up the side of Steve’s cock, exploring his taste and texture, pleasantly surprised that she liked it. He tasted like some kind of alcoholic drink, something salty and citrus-y. It filled her senses and made her slick with arousal. Darcy moaned quietly at the back of her throat.

Steve’s breath huffed out his nose as he struggled for control. Miss Lewis . . . _Darcy_ was licking a strip around his cock like he was some kind of lollipop. He ground his teeth at the image, feeling almost woozy as the blood recollected south of the border. He managed to spare a look at Bucky and realized how much of a mistake that was when he saw his pal with his flesh hand wrapped around his cock, giving himself a slow pull. Steve hissed as lightning hot pleasure surged through his muscles. He gripped Darcy’s hair and pulled her back before she could make him erupt. He wanted to come _inside_ her. The urge came unbidden and fierce. He was a little disturbed by the intensity.

Darcy whimpered in disappointment as Steve pulled her mouth away.

“Not yet,” Steve groaned.

“S’my turn,” Bucky rumbled.

She turned her head only to be confronted by the curve of another impressive cock, this one framed by a thatch of dark curls. Her breath hitched in anticipation and a little bit of anxiety. It struck her then, _Oh gods. There are **two** of them!   
_Barnes must have seen something of the fear in her eyes because he tipped up her chin with his fingers, “I won’t hurt you, doll. Promise.” His thumb stroked her cheek and Darcy let herself lean into the reassuring gesture. She fluttered her eyes downwards as she shifted on her knees in front of him and hesitantly took him in her hand. His stomach muscles contracted as her fingers wrapped around his length. When he didn’t stop her, Darcy leaned forward to run the tip of her tongue around the head of his cock.

“Ugn.” She heard him gasp. Encouraged, she wrapped her full lips around him and began to suck.

He’d felt a little smug when Steve had been so quick to chase the edge but now, with the girl’s hot wet little mouth suctioning him he was no better. To keep himself from gripping her curls and taking control, he laced his fingers behind his head to stem the impulse.

If Steve tasted like a cool summer drink, Barnes was like dark, unsweetened hot chocolate. The kind with chili peppers for kick. Darcy mmm’ed around his shaft in appreciation. All she needed now was some whipped cream.

She was preoccupied with the sounds she was pulling from the dark haired soldier so that at first she didn’t realize that Steve was maneuvering behind her until the warmth of his hand settling on the small of her back brought her out of her haze. Darcy’s mouth released Bucky’s cock with a startled hiccup.

“Sorry,” Steve’s roughened voice carried over her shoulder. “I just . . . just want to make you feel good too. Is that okay?”

The hand remained on her back, but he slid his other one around her hip. Darcy’s eyes fluttered closed blissfully as his sturdy fingertips brushed her. “Oh god, yes,” She sighed.

Steve knew he wasn’t as experienced as Bucky was back in the day but it was more than instinct that guided his fingers to dip and swirl around Darcy’s responsive flesh. She was slick and dripping, making his cock burn with the need to be deep inside of her. He held back with a very thin veneer of control, telling himself over and over that this was against both their wills. He couldn’t get her wide blue eyes out of his head. It wasn’t right.

The lines were getting blurrier as she responded by opening her legs wider for his fingers. Steve huffed for air as he obligingly sank the first finger into Darcy’s proffered opening. She was almost dripping wet but her passage was shockingly snug. He moved the hand that was on the small of her back to grip her hip and almost didn’t notice the finger shaped bruises that were already mottling her creamy flesh. At the sight Steve’s gaze darkened with something primal. He remembered her saying something about being used as an Avengers sex toy. The thought that someone else had been inside her made Steve want to . . .

“Punk--!” Bucky clipped out. He frowned at the uncharacteristic snarl on Steve’s face.

Steve tried shaking his head but the dark thought remained. He stared at his hands, framing Darcy’s round ass.

Darcy pulled her mouth off of Bucky’s cock with a wet pop. “Please,” She said breathlessly.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. His hands were already lining her up with his purpled tip. He muttered an apology before pulling her down onto him with one quick motion.

Darcy went rigid as Steve sank to the hilt. There were twinges of pain as her unprepared walls were stretched beyond their limit. She cried out and reached back to fight the hands that were digging into her hips. However not even a second passed before the drugs in her system transformed her pain into something else and Darcy felt her muscles going lax, a disbelieving groan coaxed from her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry,” Steve said helplessly, thrusting deep.

“Ungh, god.” Darcy gasped, “Shut up, don’t stop.” It felt like he was dragging at her insides, his cock battering her cervix in a way that would _not_ have been good if she wasn’t hopped up on Avengers Love Potion. Her legs were turning to jelly, her toes curling . . .

Darcy threw her head back to scream as the orgasm was driven into her but her mouth remained open and silent, her whole world seemed to narrow and focus around the intense and almost frightening paroxysm of pleasure.

Steve was unprepared for the way her body locked around his as she came. The rippling of her deliciously tight passage around his cock hurled him towards the edge. Sweat dripped from his brow as he struggled to maintain composure. He might have been successful if Darcy’s trembling wasn’t immediately followed by a gush of hot liquid which drenched his lower belly.

He was pretty sure, somewhere, Dum Dum Dugan was raising a glass to the slew of obscenities that suddenly spilled from his lips. Steve’s smooth hard strokes completely lost rhythm and he came with a sputtering growl.

Darcy couldn’t do anything but squirm in agonized pleasure as Steve’s cock jolted her over sensitive passage. His fingers were digging painfully into her hips as he bottomed out inside her.

“Yiss--oh yes--!” Darcy’s cheek was mashed into the floor as her upper body collapsed. Her eyelids fluttered at the extraordinary sensation of Steve’s come jetting inside her, punctuated by his deep groans. “Ohmygoood--!”

Steve blinked down at Darcy’s glistening back as though he was waking up. He took in his fingers making dents into her flesh and let go with a hiss of regret. “Oh, god. Oh _shit_.” He disengaged from her warm body slowly, unwilling to cause her any more pain. As his half-hard cock dropped heavily from her body, Steve was overwhelmed (and inappropriately proud) of the rush of come that followed his withdrawal.

Darcy made a noise of complaint.

“Did I hurt you?” Steve felt the sting of shame and remembered the rush of hot fluid that had burst from her. _Oh god_ , had he damaged her?

He swept Darcy’s body up in his arms and swung her towards the bed with a frantic look at Bucky.

Damn near froze at the sight.

Bucky was hunched over, his hand clenched around the base of his member as though he was in pain. But the look in his eye as he watched the two of them eased some of the worried tension that formed in Steve’s shoulders. That gleam of sardonic amusement was familiar.

“What?” Steve barked.

“S’not broken, punk. You just gave her the ride of her life. Quit flappin’.”

Steve wasn’t quite sure how that was possible, but if Bucky said she was okay. He believed the more experienced man. Still, he set her down on the bed with more care than he’d had the presence of mind to show her so far. Darcy grabbed for him as he went to pull away.

“Please,” She whimpered, rubbing her thighs together in a desperate search for friction.

 


	5. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings. If you have to ask which ones you should skip this story. Peace out.
> 
> Oh and I recommend listening to Animals-Maroon 5 while reading :)

“It’s okay Darcy,” Steve said hesitantly, meeting the dark tumultuous eyes of his best friend. “We’ve got you.”

Darcy’s breath hitched as she shot a look towards the edge of the mattress where Bucky was stalking closer. His hypnotic gaze froze her in place. She made a sound that was a mix of wanton lust and a little hint of fear.

Bucky heard it and slowed his approach as much as he could with his drugged pulse beating a demanding rhythm. He took the opportunity to study the woman squirming on the bed. Her pale skin was flushed, covered in a fine sheen. Her dark hair stuck to her cheeks and neck in delicious tangled whorls.

He reached out with his flesh hand and thumbed a rose tipped nipple that was standing at attention. Darcy bit her swollen lip, cutting off a moan but her chest arched from the bed, searching his touch. Bucky let out an unsteady breath of his own as his hand encompassed the softness of her lush breast.

For a moment, it was like Déjà vu. He and Steve finally had one of those pinup girls they were always dreamin’ about before the war. Darcy just needed a fresh coat of crimson on her lips and her hair done right . . .

Bucky made a raw sound and his eyes met Steve’s torn blue ones.

“She’s a goddamn peach.” He growled.

He looked downwards, where he was leaned up against the side of the mattress. Her long porcelain legs were bent before him, scissoring, as Darcy tried to find some relief in pressing her thighs together.

“Not like that, sweetheart.” Bucky ground out in his rough voice. He dragged her closer to his body, jaw clenching and unclenching at the sensation of her legs on either side of his hips.  Darcy moaned, settling her fluttering hands on his hips. She rocked her pelvis into him unashamedly, which at this angle brought his hard cock straight in line with her pussy.

 _She’s so small_ , he marveled. For all those curves she was just a little thing.

Darcy started to unravel with his body hovering over hers, “I need it. Please! I need you!” She almost sobbed as she tried to pull his marble hips closer.

Bucky placed his metal hand on her quivering belly to hold her still while he nudged her knees to the side. He stared openly at the sight of her glistening pink slit. Pearly white streams of come still seeped from her swollen pussy. He felt his cock throb painfully at the sight.

“Fuck Steve,” He huffed a strangled laugh. “You been savin’ that since the 40’s?”

“Shut it.” Huffed Steve.

Now all his attention focused on what his body was screaming for. Bucky rubbed the seeping tip of his cock into the slippery mix between Darcy’s legs and clenched his jaw. This was _wrong_ but at the same time _so close_ to what he’d wanted for so long.

Darcy was cursing at him for teasing her, her body was about to combust into very final flames if he didn't get inside her, like, right now. She was light headed with want. Her rolling head caught a glimpse of Steve, sitting on the corner of the bed, stroking his still-hard cock with a scary intense look on his face as he watched the two of them. The very currents of air seemed to stroke Darcy’s nipples and she whimpered, distracted once more.

Bucky leaned over her, one hand splayed beside her head, the metal fist slowly feeding himself into her.

Darcy’s eyes widened at the breach and her breath lodged in her throat. She could feel the slow, delicious, stretch as Bucky pushed forward. His way was eased by her slick and Steve’s spend but it was still a tight fit.

“Breathe,” He directed her, a bead of sweat running down his neck.

She did. It was a shaky gulp of air that only seemed to make the sensations more mind-blowing. Darcy all but sobbed. “Oh my god!”

She groaned as Bucky retreated almost fully before pushing forcefully back in. “Oh my god!!”

The sound that Bucky made was throaty and deep. His face grew strained as he held himself back from the edge that rushed for him like a full body tackle. Darcy’s wandering fingers trailed over the backs of his hands which dug mercilessly in the sheets.

“F—uuu—ck,” He drew out raggedly. He licked his lips. Darcy’s blown pupils stared transfixed at the moist trail his tongue left behind. Bucky’s head lowered until their mouths met in a completely filthy kiss.

His hips jolted forward as Darcy’s body undulated beneath him. He swallowed her moan, chasing her tongue, tasting the heady mixture of himself and Steve on her lips. Bucky felt his cock harden even further at the thought, and Darcy mewled as she felt his bruising length pulse against her walls.

“Please,” she begged the corner of his mouth, “Plleaase. Oh god Barnes I need--!!”

Her pleas only spurred him on. Bucky felt his control slipping under the drugged urge to fuck her hard and fast. Distantly he heard the sheets tearing to shreds under his metal hand.

_"Buck--!”_

Steve’s use of his name brought him back enough focus. Bucky squeezed his eyes tight as he drew Darcy against his chest and sat back on his heels. He settled his hands on the smooth curve of her ass to keep her locked in place as they changed position. Darcy threw one arm around his neck for purchase while she wiggled in his lap.

“Gn—rah! Fuck doll!” Bucky grunted, “You trying to kill me?”

Darcy rolled her forehead deliriously against his sweaty collarbone. “Feels so good!” She whined.

Bucky cursed his luck. He finally gets a sweet piece in his arms, one that he and Steve would both give their stripes for and it’s under some fucked up compulsion. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Darcy was trembling. With every breathless upstroke Barnes ground her clit against the base of his cock. She mewled helplessly as his demanding strokes bordered on too hard. The unrepentant squelching sound of their bodies filled her ears. She had never seen more than one expression on the ex-Winter Soldier’s face; that of careful disinterest. But now, his normally cold blue eyes were smoky with lust and his face was twisted with a snarl of pleasure.

 _Oh my god_ , Darcy felt a naughty shock jolt right through her.   _The Winter Soldier is gunna make me come . . ._

Bucky saw something like surprise flicker across Darcy’s face. Her breath caught in her throat and she threw her head back as the first hot waves of release locked her muscles tight. He clawed at her hips desperately as her hot slick inner walls gripped his sensitive cock and threatened to drain him of every milky drop.

 _Not yet_. He willed himself, clenching his jaw. _Not fucking yet. I’m going to make this last._

It was a near thing though, the sight of Darcy’s glistening throat bared for him as she rode out her release almost finished it right there.

Her body slumped against his chest and for a moment, Bucky was afraid to move in case the sensations did him in. She was boneless in his arms, soft and warm, and wet, as he slowly resumed plunging his stiff cock into her twitching channel.

Darcy made a tiny mewling noise but otherwise made no move to pull away.

Bucky raised his eyes in surprise though, as the bed shifted from Steve’s weight. His eyes drawn automatically to his buddy’s painfully hard cock. An eyebrow lifted in question.

“I can’t just watch,” groaned Steve, the deep red of remorse high on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I need to touch her.”

Steve reached out with his hand and swept his hand down Darcy’s bare back. She shivered in reaction and he would have snatched his hand back if he didn't hear Darcy’s faint keening version of his name.  Her exhausted face remained mashed against Bucky’s pec.

“M’sorry but I’m not moving. Not even for you, punk.” Bucky said while he fixated on the soft willing body in his arms.

“Not asking you to,” Steve snarked. He shifted closer until he was pressed up against Darcy’s back. He reached to where Darcy and Bucky were joined and let his fingers slide through the sticky fluid there. Bucky jumped, biting back a curse at the sensation of Steve’s fingers exploring where his cock disappeared into Darcy’s pussy.

“Just need a little . . . help,” Steve’s hesitancy disappeared as he pressed his slicked up fingers against the tight rosebud of Darcy’s ass.

Bucky felt his jaw drop open as Steve carefully worked a finger inside Darcy.

Darcy made a sound of distress and he switched his gaze to her upturned face. Her expression was conflicted, her brows were drawn downward but that lush mouth was open as though she wasn't sure if she were going to protest or beg for more. He wanted to kiss the air from her lungs at that look.

He reached down to fondle her clit with his metal fingers. Darcy swallowed a cry and her expression grew hungry for all the right reasons. If Steve was doing what he thought he was, she might need to be distracted a little (and btw, where the hell did the Punk learn that?!).

Steve had one hand busy stroking his cock, while he painstakingly stretched Darcy’s tightest entrance with the introduction of a second finger. His mouth was screwed up in concentration as he slipped his first and second fingers up to his knuckles. Darcy made a needy little noise and Bucky felt her sheath contract against his length.

“Fuck punk, I don’t have all night.” Bucky complained in a husky voice.

Steve huffed a strained laugh, “I know, but I don’t want to hurt her.”

Darcy seemed to break through her haze to realize what was happening. “You’re both going to--?” She gasped in disbelief. She had an inkling (ok, more than an inkling—thanks Tumblr) that it was possible but never imagined in her _wildest_ dreams that it was something she would get to try.

Her eyes almost rolled back as Steve’s fingers searched inside her while Bucky tried holding still so he didn't come while his _best friend_ (holy fuck Darce) tried to take her ass virginity. Yay Captain America!

Darcy shivered in anticipation.

Steve was up to three fingers and she couldn't wait any more. She didn't care about the burn she was impatient to feel them both moving inside her. She practically sobbed, “Please Cap, I need to feel you, _please!!_ ”

She heard his shaking exhale and his forehead pressed against her bare shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He said, strained.  It was clear that the drugged urge was almost stronger than his concern.

The burning brand of his cock left an imprint on the inside of her thigh. Darcy mewled and arched her ass as best she could, still impaled on Bucky’s cock. That seemed to do the trick though. She felt Steve drag his hot tip against the crack of her ass and she felt a mix of terror and hunger so intensely she was faint with it. The tip of his cock was wet with pre-come and he spent a moment rubbing it against her untouched entrance.

“Please, Steve.” She panted.

His answering groan sounded painful. Then he was pressing forward and Darcy’s fingers were digging into Bucky’s forearms as hot burning fire lit up her backside.

Bucky hushed her distressed cries. “Relax into it, doll. C’mon. You can do it.”

“M’sorry, I can’t!” Darcy yelped. It felt like someone was shoving a huge hot poker inside her, and were taking their goddamn time about it!

“Ngh! Buck!” Steve’s agonized groan reached them, “I can’t stop! Fuck!!”

“Shit!” Bucky swore tightly. He felt like he was being squeezed out and he couldn't help thrusting back in answer.

Suddenly it was like Steve punched through a barrier and he bottomed out inside her ass. Darcy trembled with a cry, tears streaking down her cheeks. For a tense moment everyone held painfully still.

Breathing curses silently into Darcy’s hair, Barnes could no longer restrain himself. He gripped her hips and pulled her down onto his cock with a broken apology. Steve moved in silent counterpoint, pushing in as Bucky pulled out. His hands intertwined with Bucky’s and they rolled her hips together.

Darcy’s body came back to life with a violent shudder. Her pain was easing and was slowly being replaced with a growing tension. Her legs squeezed Barnes’ hips as she was rolled between the two super soldiers. She began to try to keep up with their rhythm. When the two men noticed she was no longer a passive participant, she felt the shudder of hunger pass through the three of them. The pace picked up and grew a level of desperation that no one could hide.

The fingers entwined on her hips tightened and she was deliriously sure the marks they left behind would make an interesting tattoo.

The thrusting was becoming disjointed. Their bodies coiled together sometimes in an uncoordinated lunge.

Bucky groaned. “F—uck Steve I can feel your cock.” His eyes met his partner’s over Darcy’s dark head.

Steve was biting his bottom lip. A breath shuddered from his mouth as their eyes met and an unspoken charge passed through the air. He was right, when they lost rhythm and thrust forward at the same time, it was like they were rubbing themselves together inside Darcy.

Darcy was barely holding on as it was. When the boys started to drive into her at the same time on purpose she grabbed a handful of Bucky’s hair and tugged hard as she almost bounced right off his lap.

“Ughgod,” She babbled, “so full.”  Her body stiffened as her release was literally pounded into her. Darcy wailed, convulsing.   

Bucky couldn’t fight it a second time. “That’s it,” He gnashed his teeth as he buried himself deep and let himself go. The relief of his release made him light-headed and he grunted with each ball-deep spurt.

Steve made a noise suspiciously like a sob and he was coming hard right on their heels.

The entwined three collapsed to the bed in exhaustion. Darcy was already half-asleep in the warm tangle of arms.

They might have passed out on their own if it weren't for the unwanted sound of the door slamming open.

Darcy shot upright with a squeak of fright. She found herself between two protective super soldiers who immediately closed ranks before her. Sadly she recognized this scene from the other times it had happened and protested.

“Don’t fight them!” She pleaded with Bucky and Steve who looked furiously at the guards.

“Like hell I’m going to let them come near you!” Steve snarled.

Bucky pressed his lips together bitterly. He shared a private look with Darcy.

“They’re either going to shock Bucky or gas us,” Darcy informed him passionately. “I don’t want that to happen. Please Steve--!”

The lines were tight around Steve’s eyes. “Darcy . . .”

“Ms. Lewis is correct, Captain. You wouldn't want anyone to get hurt would you?” one of the guards confirmed in his tinny voice.

Steve’s knuckles grew white under the threat. “Darcy.” He protested brokenly.

Bucky stared forward at the guards, his face impassive.

Darcy pinched her arm hard in order to clear the tears from her voice, “I’ll be fine,” She lied. Her voice was deceptively soothing.

Steve’s lips tightened. He wasn't fooled. However, he was lacking in options.

"We’ll be back for you Darcy,” He promised before the guards closed ranks around him and Bucky.

Darcy couldn't answer him, knowing if she tried they would hear her doubt. _Just get the others and get out of here._ She thought silently. _For me._

Bucky must have sensed something of her thoughts for he turned his head just as they were being pushed through the doorway. She gave him a sad smile.

“ **No!** ” She heard him bellow as the door sealed behind them.

Her shoulders dropped as she was left alone once more.

“Impressive Ms. Lewis. I have to admit.”

Darcy squeaked as her attention was drawn to the two guards that had escaped her notice.

One stepped closer, clearly he was the one addressing her. “I had my doubts that you were the right choice for this little venture. I’m pleased to see that I was wrong.”

Darcy hugged her arms to her knees. Her face burned as the guard seemed to be implying that she was making a good little Avenger’s whore. There was no argument she could make to the contrary, not with Steve and Bucky’s spend slipping messily from her well-used body.

“Wh-what do you want with me?” She forced herself to ask.

It was odd watching a helmet for some hint of her situation. Finally the figure shrugged, “We’re here to move you to new accommodations. Something more . . . suitable.”

Her throat closed up in fear.  As much as she liked to think she had given up on Tony getting them out of there, she knew that if her kidnappers moved her it was less likely she would be found.

“P-please no.” Darcy said hoarsely. “Just let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone ab—”

She stared in incomprehension at the strange metal dart that just stung her shoulder. She switched her betrayed gaze to the second guard. He was pointing the same gun they had used on Thor.

Her world tilted crazily and Darcy found herself staring at the guard helplessly as he pulled off his helmet. As his face became clear, Darcy’s heart rate tripled in recognition. _No. No, no, no, n---_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kay. No porn this time 'round. Just a little interlude to tie in the next part. Yes there is a plot, laughable though it may be. Still, the story in general is mostly an excuse for depraved porn. No apologies. Ok, maybe a little. No. Nope. Sorry. :B

There was nausea, this time, as the sedative wore off and Darcy clawed her way back to consciousness like a cornered animal. Light seared her closed eyelids mercilessly and she lifted her arm to shield her face, or she would have, if her arm wasn't currently anchored tightly to her side.

With a sharp inhale, Darcy awoke and jerked her arms again.

“Calm yourself, you are merely restrained.” A man’s voice drawled.

Darcy froze. _Ah shit._ Nervously she wet her lips with her tongue. _It wasn't just a nightmare then._ Slowly she squinted towards the smartly dressed figure leaning against a nearby wall. _Nope. **Fuck—**_

Loki interpreted her gaze and his lips widened with his signature smirk.

“What? You got tired of world domination and thought you’d try your hand at human trafficking?” Darcy blurted out before she could help herself. _Sure Darce, piss off the banana-brain alien who currently has you tied naked to a bed._ She felt her face drain of color and flush in turn as her brain caught up with her mouth.

He simply tilted his head and gave a faux pout. “Such a _mouth_ on you, Midgardian.” He pushed off the wall effortlessly. Darcy started, despite herself and her heart started racing. It couldn't be made any clearer to her, how vulnerable she was. Her mouth dried.

Loki pivoted suddenly, the black coat he was wearing flared with the motion. “Actually, I have to admit the idea wasn't all mine.” He shrugged negligently. “It was intriguing though, this plan. I had to see it in action.”

Darcy watched him with disbelief and growing outrage. “You’re serious.” She stated, her voice shaking with barely restrained emotion.  Involuntarily she thought of Thor and winced. Yes of course, what better way to humiliate and demoralize his hated ‘brother’?

The impossibly tall Asgardian loomed over her bed, his eyes glittered. “I rarely jest.”

She swallowed fearfully.

For a few moments, she tried to compose herself by looking around the room. Realizing for the first time she was in a different place. The room was smaller, for one. It felt like the pit of her stomach dropped to the floor. _I’ll never be found._ She felt a wave of despair.

She tried to distract herself by clinging to small details, like the hair that was tickling her cheek to distraction, or the way the (plastic?) bindings on her wrists were just a little too tight, or how there was a small swab of cotton taped to the inside of her arm. _Wait, what?_

“Why me?” Darcy asked, her mouth feeling clumsy. She raised her eyes reluctantly.

Loki looked infuriatingly aware of her thoughts. “Happy coincidence?” He offered with a shark head smile.

Her insides turned to ice. She didn't understand the look but it made her instantly wary.

He leaned over her, “Turns out you fit the role perfectly. You are close to the merry band of fools and yet unattached to any one specifically. You somehow retained some measure of purity for a human of your age and you . . . well…” Loki gestured at her perfunctorily, “Have the body of a courtesan.”

“Fuck you.” Darcy said breathlessly. It was like she couldn't breathe. _What? Just. What?!_

Something else was bugging her though.

“What else?” She forced herself to ask.

Loki cocked an eyebrow. After a moment he huffed what sounded like a laugh, “Of course. You show signs of the same cleverness.” He allowed himself to twirl a strand of her rich chocolate hair around a finger. Darcy bit down on her lip and resisted the temptation to rip her head away. She wanted to hear his more of his answer.

“My associate is interested in your heritage,” Loki mused as he contemplated her springy curl.

Scoffing, Darcy said, “What heritage?”

Loki smirked. “That, my dear. Is part of the surprise. And you know I treasure a good one.”

 _You love a good shit show_ , she wanted to retort.

“Who is your associate?” She asked instead.

Loki’s slender shoulders lifted casually, “I believe the good Captain and his partner in arms are familiar with the organization.”

“Hydra?” squeaked out of Darcy’s constricted throat.

“Ah, you are familiar.”

The muffled sound of whimpering was her response.

The door at the foot of the bed swung open suddenly and a head popped in, “If you’re finished being interrogated by the prisoner, Loki, we would like to get on with the next stage.” The man’s voice grated like charcoal briquettes but Darcy could hear the measure of sarcasm a mile away. It wasn't his voice that held her in thrall however, it was his visage. The man looked like he was a walking burn crater. Darcy barely withheld a shudder of horror. She didn't think she'd ever miss the anonymous Guard uniforms.  

Loki just smirked, unperturbed. “One moment more, Agent Rumlow.”

The door closed once more and Darcy couldn't fight the chatter of her teeth. “Next stage?”

“Yes. Then you've earned yourself a rest.”

Darcy looked at the back of his head in disbelief as he turned away from her.

“Earned--?” She choked on her nausea.

“Of course.” Loki gave her a sympathetic look that she believed. Not.

He hung his hands above Darcy and she blinked in disbelief as a golden cloud took form. A familiar chemical smell teased her senses and she immediately tried to squirm away, turning her face away from the cloud with a sound of desperation.

“Is that the drug? Is it magic?” Darcy tugged fruitlessly on her ties. Tears of burned at the corners of her eyes and she wasn't sure which was worse, the sense of powerlessness, or the sick-making fury.

“In a manner of speaking,” Loki said, sounding preoccupied. It wasn't really an answer but before she could question him further, he leaned closer and blew the cloud into her face.

Darcy was caught off-guard and immediately began coughing. Each involuntary breath meant more of the golden _stuff_ in her lungs. She felt the immediate response of her body. The room grew several degrees too warm.

She clenched her teeth, “This is _wrong!_ ”

Loki gave her a condescending pat on the head (to her horror she found herself wanting to arch up into his touch), “It’s nothing personal, Ms. Lewis. You just have the misfortune of being too close to the so-called _Avengers,_ ”

“And it’s time they paid penance.”   


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Shit. Sorry about the delay. This was hard to write for multiple reasons. I hope it was worth the wait. If you have ANY triggers don't read this, just to be safe. Definitely of the non-con variety. 
> 
> Music to read by: I'm not the one by 3OH!3
> 
> Thanks for sticking with the story! :)

            What happened next became a nightmarish blur of indignity. Darcy was lost to the demanding urges brought on once more by the drug.  Before she was too far gone, the suspicion that she was being prepared for the last Avenger seemed inevitable. _Oh gods, Dr. Banner_ . . . she thought anguished. The image of the slightly ruffled and awkward physicist being put in the same position as his fellows was heartbreaking.

            Her thoughts didn’t have the chance to linger. The overwhelming need that consumed her body was only compounded by the fact that she seemed to be left on the bed, tied up, for longer than any other time previous. It reduced her to a shameless squirming, moaning frenzy.

            When the door to her prison opened finally, she wasn’t aware enough to be fearful. Her body reacted simply to Loki’s return as a promise of relief.

            “Plllease--!” Darcy mewled, her eyes glazed and feverish.

            Loki’s lips cocked upwards, “Ah, seems as though you are almost ready.”

            She was distantly aware of his hands testing the ties around her wrists and ankles. The very proximity of his flesh to hers made Darcy roll her head, almost drunk with the flush of want coursing through her.

            The small part of Darcy’s mind that had managed to withdraw to relative safety curled inwards in self-loathing. She was practically presenting herself to her kidnapper. Thank god she was tied down. Who knew what she would do if she were loose. _Fuck--!_

            What she wanted to say was _‘Jump off the top of a very tall building and land on your very sharply curved golden helmet, you sanctimonious sleaze hole,’_ but instead, to her everlasting shame what she actually verbalized sounded more along the lines of _‘please for the love of fuck get in me.’_ If the noises she was making resembled actual words and less like pathetic moans. The only sign remaining that this was clearly against her will, were the tear tracks drying on her fevered cheeks.

            Her ankles were freed and Darcy wanted to die from shame as she drew her knees up and keened. He wasn’t testing her ties, she suddenly realized with a mixture of relief and terror, Loki was releasing her!

            She didn’t miss the way Loki licked his open mouth. The calculation in his darkened green eyes had shifted to something familiar.  “Ah, Ms. Lewis…” His sibilant voice crooned in her ear as he loomed over her to undo her wrists.

            _Oh dear Thor, was he--?_ Darcy was confused. She despaired at the hopeful surge that made her strain towards him.

            Loki’s breath was hot on her ear and she shuddered in anticipation (horror), “I could _almost_ be tempted to partake, if you weren’t anticipated elsewhere--”

            Her wrists now unbound, Darcy found herself twining her traitorous arms around Loki’s neck. She felt, more than heard his quiet chuckle. “Such a good girl. You’re making my job so much easier.” He slid one of his wiry arms under her knees and lifted her from the bed.  Before they had taken a step away though, he placed his free hand on her lower belly. She squirmed with a frustrated sound, wanting him to move it lower. “Ah, ah, impatient little minx, I have a little gift for you,” Loki smirked.

            _No! No more magic!_ Darcy shrieked from inside her mental prison. _No more drugs!_

            It was like he could hear her. Loki made sure his eyes caught hers before drawing her attention to those long pale digits splayed on her belly. Darcy’s breath hitched at the site of an amber light emanating from his fingers. It felt warm to the touch and after a moment, faded into her alabaster skin. 

            “W-what did you do?!” She forced out breathlessly.

            “Ensured your survival.” Loki said cryptically.

            There was no way Darcy could believe the crackpot Asgardian was feeling charitable towards her all of a sudden. He must have done something else to make her Super Slut to the enth degree . . .  

            She was thus preoccupied when Loki used his magic to shift them to another location. Darcy was unaware of the change to her surroundings until the ground glass voice of Agent Rumlow ripped through her delirious haze.

            “Took you long enough. We don’t know how much longer the adrenal inhibitor is going to work on the subject.” Rumlow approached Loki and his armload. He gave Darcy a cynical once over. “She doesn’t look ready. I thought you said you had it covered?”

            “She’s ready,” Loki said steadily. “Just overcome.”

            _Badum Chhh!_ Darcy, unamused, picked up on the double entendre. _Just wait until I find my taser you underfed smurf._

            Rumlow was clearly doubtful. He gestured for two figures in lab coats to come forward and relieve Loki of his burden. As much as Darcy loathed Loki when she was in her right mind, there was a marked difference in his touch and the impersonal, sterilized grip of the two white- clad assistants who set her on her feet, naked, and grasped her by both elbows. Her knees buckled immediately and Darcy whimpered.

            There was a low chuckle behind her, and muffled voices faded into the distance. Darcy couldn’t turn thanks to the hands painfully clamped to her arms. She was forcefully frog marched (frog carried?) into what looked like a large laboratory.  She tottered on jelly legs.

Was she about to be experimented on? Was that what Loki had meant about her survival?   

            “D-Darcy?” a raspy voice faltered.

            She lifted her lolling head and stared as her worst fears were confirmed.  “Bruce--!” Her breath hitched as her throat thickened with the bitter taste of defeat. _So **all** the people I respect then. _  She accepted this as an inescapable truth.

            “Have they hurt you?” Bruce demanded. His voice noticeably deepened in pitch.

            She couldn’t have answered him if she wanted to. Firstly, what could she have said that wouldn’t make him Hulk out and kill everyone? Secondly, the sight of him, knowing what was to come, made her inner fire next to unbearable. Darcy completely sagged in her captor’s arms with a low moan, sweat dewing over her skin and arousal making her thighs slick.

             “What have you done to her?” Bruce rumbled at the two lab assistants taping something to Darcy’s shoulder. She shivered at the pinch of a needle but otherwise didn’t make any protest. There was no reply to the captive scientist. The two assistants continued with their perfunctory actions.

            After being captured, Bruce had lost any measure of time due to being kept tranquilized as a precaution. When his head finally cleared he found himself restrained to this solid slab of vibranium, naked and spread eagle like an obscene Vitruvian man. Shortly after that, anonymous lab technicians had given him something via intravenous which alarmingly resulted in an unforgiving hard on.

            And of course they must have found a way to suppress his green half in order to do so. His very nature as the Hulk would not have complied. It would have been a very short attempt otherwise.

            Bruce grunted and strained against the irons holding him down to what proved to be a reinforced lab gurney. “No,” He panted, gnashing his teeth. “She shouldn’t be in here! Please! Don’t play with her safety like this!”

            “Then I suggest you try to calm down, Doctor Banner,” a voice came over a speaker. “You don’t want to burn through the adrenal inhibitors faster than necessary, now do you?”

            The voice was unfamiliar, thought Darcy distantly. Which was probably a good thing. Loki’s attempt at coaching would not have been a calming influence.

            Finished with whatever they were preparing, one of the lab rats now hoisted a completely useless Darcy into the air and approached Bruce’s bed. His brown eyes widened in outrage as they approached.

            “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He asked appalled.      

            He was sickened at the thought of what kind of experiment would require him to be aroused against his will. Now it was graphically clear what they expected.  

            Bruce clenched his teeth, “Don’t do this. The gamma radiation in my body alone could kill her--!”

            “That’s why we saved you for last, Dr. Banner.” The emotionless voice crackled to life briefly.

            Bruce’s brown eyes darkened as he lifted his gaze to the naked intern they offered.

            A nearly delirious seeming Darcy was deposited not so artfully on Bruce’s rigid form. She was positioned astride his hips while her upper body slumped over his chest. The contact seemed to revive her and she rolled her forehead on his sternum with a needy whimper. “M’sorry Bruce,” her throaty voice was the softest of whispers.  He barely heard her, he was concentrating so hard on fighting for control. His eyes screwed shut guiltily at the sensation of her full breasts pressing against his chest and her bare bottom against his lower stomach. His cock full out _surged_ in reaction to her softness.

            Darcy’s despair grew at the sight of Bruce’s resistance. She didn’t want to bring any devastation to the shy physicist. But even as her inner self screamed silently at the unfairness of it all, her traitorous fingers ran through the dusting of dark curls that covered Bruce’s upper chest. He had more hair than any of the other Avengers (and it was _wrong_ that she could now objectively compare them), it covered his pectorals and trailed down to what promised to be a _very_ happy trail. For now she was content to rock her tingling pussy against his pelvic bone and feel his burning member branding her ass cheek.  

            Bruce hissed sharply, his eyes dilated as he watched as she rolled her sinful hips against his. Christ he’d be hard pressed to ignore her on a good day (today was **not** a good day).  He painfully had to remind himself that Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster’s quirky intern was almost 15 years younger than himself. Hell, she was fresh out of graduate school!

            It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed her curves, or her lush, gap-toothed smile, around the labs. But those instances had only made him regret he wasn’t a decade younger (and not a radioactive time bomb). He was a man, neither blind, nor dead.

            _This_ was nothing he would have wished on anyone. It was sick. Their kidnappers were going to make him hurt a woman he admired in an act that was in itself, traumatizing and degrading.

            Darcy’s skin was fever hot and _too tight_. The initial relief of feeling Bruce’s skin against hers was fading; transmuting into frustration. He wasn’t touching her. He _couldn’t_ touch her back, she corrected herself with difficulty.  His wrists were encased in some kind of solid metal.

            “ **Fuck** ,” Bruce breathed raggedly. The sounds Darcy made were going straight to his cock. Throaty little whimpers punctuated by the whisper-soft glide of her cheek against his chest like she was trying to coax him to . . .

            “I don’t . . .” Darcy’s broken voice wavered, “Bruce I need . . . god--!”

            Bruce was never as close to the Hulk as he was at that moment. He could feel the beast churning underneath his skin, raging to be set free. Every muscle quivered with violent tension. It was probably very lucky for Darcy that he was restrained, who knew what he would do to her even without the big guy.  He clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding.

            Darcy lifted her head, her damp, dark curls bounced over her bare shoulders with the movement. She fixed her smoky blue eyes on his dark ones and Bruce unwillingly felt the answering tug in his midsection. “I want you to touch me,” She pleaded breathlessly. She cupped her overflowing breasts in her feminine hands and held the milky skin out to him like dusky tipped offerings. She bit down on her swollen lips.

            Something snapped in Bruce and he surged against the vibranium bands holding him to the bed. They refused to give under his tugging. “Can’t.” Bruce growled.

            Darcy mewled.

            “Want to be inside of you!” He fairly snarled. Then, it was like he heard himself, Bruce gave himself a sobering shake followed by his customary wince and twist of the lips, “Sorry!! Fuck—I’m so sorry!”

            “Please, please--!” Darcy didn’t even notice or care about his apology.

            Bruce threw his head back against the bed with a groan as Darcy reached back and wrapped her fingers around his cock. He made noises he was sure he would be ashamed of later but right now his whole world had narrowed down with scary focus to the brand of heat her fingers made around his member.

            She stroked him appreciatively; watching his pleasure twisted face with intense single-mindedness.

            “Christ, fuck, Darcy!!” Bruce garbled. His hands fisted and flexed helplessly in their restraints.

            “Mmm,” She replied, her eyes rolling back blissfully as she lifted her hips and positioned his pulsing member at her slick entrance.

            Bruce sucked in a deep breath at the vision she made, poised over his hips, one of her hands aiming his cock at her bare pussy, Darcy looking downward, her hair curtaining her face from his view, her legs splayed on either side of his hips. If he’d been any less worldly he would have lost it all right there.

            She sank down on him slowly. Her sheath was tight but blissfully slick. It took Darcy a few attempts before she could take him inside entirely. When she finally settled, with her bottom on his thighs and her fingers digging into his ribs, Bruce explosively let out the breath he’d been holding.

            “Mmugh god,” Darcy mewled. Every ridge and pulsing vein of Bruce’s cock seemed to drag against all the right spots. “Yes!”

            Her thighs quivering with intensity, she began to ride Bruce in a slow and deliberate pace. Her breath hitched every time she bottomed out. Her mouth dropped open and with an electric shock of realization, Bruce knew she was chasing the edge of an orgasm.

            Baring his teeth with animal intensity, Bruce shook off his languid shock and snapped his hips upward. Darcy’s eyes flew open as he jarred her from her daze. “Oh?” She cried out. She stared with some confusion at the determined hunger on Bruce’s face. His dark gaze turned her insides to molten lava.

            Every so often Bruce would punctuate her rhythm with one of those devastating thrusts until it got to the point that Darcy’s pussy was squelching she was so turned on. “I’m a—oh god,” Darcy shivered hard. Her pupils were blown wide.

            Bruce took the hint and drove his hips into her relentlessly. He saw, as well as felt, Darcy’s body constrict, her toes curling, fingernails digging grooves into his belly. It was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. He could feel himself following closely behind her. Her inner muscles milked his throbbing shaft.

            It was like the room darkened under a red haze. Bruce fervently wished he could flip her over and bury himself deep in her softness; lock his arms around her limbs until they were both sleepy with completion.

            As it was, he was lucky that Darcy was able to hang onto him as he lunged wildly between her legs. She clung tightly to him, her tousled hair once more hiding her face. Bruce stilled with a shuddering gasp as his release spewed forth and filled her tight passage. “Gah! M’fuck—Darce!!” He groaned loudly into her shoulder.

            She mewled with every one of his jerky after-thrusts. Splayed out on his chest, Darcy looked pretty out of it. Bruce felt pretty wrecked himself. He huffed deeply as he drew out the pleasure from his still half-hard cock, thrusting slowly and deliberately in her inviting warmth.

            It could only have been a few seconds before the doors to the labs burst open and Bruce raised his head sharply at the sound of armed men pushing forward. His eyes narrowed, “What’s going on?” He barked.

            He didn’t see Darcy’s resigned gaze. “S’okay Bruce. I’ll be fine.” She tried to reassure him. Only he didn’t hear her. His concentration was on Rumlow who was stepping forward, a sub-machine gun slung over his shoulder.

            “You’re not going to touch her,” Bruce rumbled dangerously.

            “Sorry Doc, got my orders.” Rumlow twisted his lips in a semblance of a grin. He grasped Darcy by the shoulders and tugged her down from her place on Bruce. She tried not to make a sound but Rumlow wasn’t exactly gentle and she tried to swallow her pained cry as the soldier’s fingers dug relentlessly into her flesh.

            “Let her go!” Bruce bellowed, his voice deepening in pitch. His enraged eyes flashed emerald.

            “Shit!” Rumlow responded instantly, flinging Darcy to the soldiers standing behind him. “Retreat and seal the room. Subject is compromised.”

            “Bruce?” Darcy’s eyes widened as she noticed the metal clamps around his wrists were straining against their casings. He was Hulking out. “No!” _They’ll hurt him!_   She panicked, surging against her captors, trying to break free.

            Bruce's arms were bulging, growing in size. Turning green in color.

            Darcy screamed his name as the soldiers dragged her backwards towards the door, guns at the ready.


	8. Music to Angst by

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd better add this little addendum for those curious (thanks @Maya pain) which song inspired what. So tah dah! *jazz hands*
> 
> Icarus-Bastille (Tony) For general airborne ingenuity, recklessness, drinking, totally accurate references to chest pain, armor, and anxiety attacks.   
> I'm not the one-30H!3 (Bruce Ch 7) At first I just really liked the song. Then . . . SRSLY the FEELS. It's like split personality Bruce singing to Darcy.  
> Sail-Awolnation (Bag o' Cats aka Loki) It's like a cloud cuckoo land love song for not-my-brother-!'s  
> Lets start a riot-3 Days Grace (Bucky) Empty, angry, used. Check.  
> Animals-Maroon 5 (Steve/Bucky Ch 6) This chapter was a primal skin fest. So is the song. Even straight laced Steve was losing control.  
> It's been a long, long time-Harry James & orchestra (Steve) Sugar sweet, traditional, angst-y Steve.   
> Flightless Bird-Iron & Wine (Clint) Nonononono!!! How can there be a song referencing an ex-carnie, now disillusioned 'flightless bird'???? Seriously Muse, cut it out!!   
> Best I ever had-State of Shock (Darcy) *Fist crammed in mouth*  
> She ain't you-New Hollow (Thor) Jane and Darcy. 'nuff said. *ducks behind couch*
> 
> possibly more to come. :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning. You have a Trigger? This is your warning. Be safe.   
> Also size-kink not your thing? This may not be for you.   
> Everybody else? I am so, so, sorry.   
> Track to go with the Ch: My own worst enemy - Takida

            There was so much noise.

            Everything lurched when she tried to open her eyes. Darcy winced and tried to gain purchase on something solid. It felt like she was spinning in space, and simultaneously stuck in a hamster wheel full of gravel.  Her arms cartwheeled and struck something hard, her nails slid over something smooth yet hard. Was that a supply cart? She tried to focus, clinging to the object regardless.

            The world was in chaos.

            The room was pitched in red highlighted darkness. The shadows were compounded by the blurriness of her eyes. She must have struck her head. With the hand not anchored to the cart, Darcy raised it gingerly to her forehead and winced at the throb of pain her searching fingers probed.

            She was finding it hard to string thoughts together. It could have been from a blow to the head, or it could have something to do with the thunderous crashing going on close by. _Or the trauma, it could be the trauma_ , a small voice whispered.  

            Darcy struggled to put all the fragments together. _I’m naked. Ok, I . . . remember that._ Her jerky swallow was coated with gritty plaster dust. She looked at the destruction around her. _I was kidnapped._ She studied a large vaguely threatening gurney tipped over on the floor about twenty feet in front of her. She frowned at the sight. It prodded at her memory. The warped and torn metal wrist and ankle restraints hinted at another prisoner. Obviously not her ‘cause last time she checked she lacked the strength to tear through metal. So _who?_  

            A roar suddenly filled the room. Darcy jumped violently in fright and drew her arms and legs even closer to her body. _Bruce._ Her eyes were round with realization. Broken flashes of her time with the restrained doctor returned and revealed the nature of danger she was currently in. _No,_ she corrected herself, feeling immeasurably fragile. _That’s not Bruce any more._

            She knew that the Hulk had been working more and more cohesively with the other Avengers. She’d never had the opportunity to meet Dr. Banner’s other personality in person but she had great respect for the green goliath. How could the so called ‘beast’ be anything but intelligent with someone like Bruce for a host? That being said, Darcy would rather not be locked in a lab with an enraged Hulk. He wouldn’t even see her, huddled where she was behind the cabinet. If he decided to bring the room down upon their ears in a bid for freedom, he would survive the destruction. She would not.

            But . . . if he could get out . . . get the others free . . .

            Darcy bit down on her lip.  

            She wondered how long this room would contain a pissed off Hulk. Not long surely. The reverberations that made the walls shudder and rain plaster dust had to come from his furious fists. Was it possible their captors had the foresight to reinforce this room as well as Bruce’s handcuffs? Yeah, well, see how well that worked out.

            A hidden speaker suddenly squawked to painful life. The sharp piercing sound of feedback made Darcy startle violently. Hulk roared angrily in response to the grating noise.

            “—s Lewis. It is reassuring to see that you are not in fact dead, as we presumed.” A voice spoke through the dubiously functioning speaker.

            _Ah fuck, it was that robot-like voice from before. Didn’t they evacuate when the Hulk appeared? Were they crazy?_ Darcy wondered in disbelief. Her eyes widened and head whiplashed towards the vibrations of the Hulk stomping closer.  _Oh shit._ Her heartbeat rabbited with the sudden rush of adrenaline.

            She slapped her hands over her mouth as the Hulk came into view. She silenced her cry, whether it was a scream of fear, a call for help, or even just his name, Darcy couldn’t be sure what filled her throat. She couldn’t allow herself to make a sound, she couldn’t distract him from breaking out.

            **“** **WHERE STUPID MAN?!** **”** Hulk bellowed, he took a swipe at everything in his path with one enormous green hand. Equipment and bits of crushed masonry flew indiscriminately through the air. 

            Darcy saw a partially cleaved filing cabinet careening towards her and closed her eyes tightly. _This is it._

            She had no time for regrets.

            _There was too many for her to count, even if she could._

There was a horrible wrenching impact, then . . . nothing.

 

            Something was poking her rather insistently. Darcy’s brow furrowed. She didn’t want to move. Or wake up. Her head was throbbing with scintillating ribbons of pain.

            Had she gone out the night before?

            Seriously, who was poking her with . . . what was that anyway?

            It felt someone was butting her in the side with their elbow or something.

            “Jane cut it out, you’re gonna make me barf.” She groaned. 

            That’s what she meant to say anyway. But what came out was more of a broken sounding groan.

            “ **Darceee**.”

            _That_ wasn’t Jane.

            That deep rumble didn’t even sound . . . human.

            But it sounded worried.

            She tried to open her eyes to see what madness she had woken up to and found that at least for the moment, her body was not responding very well to her demands. From between her lashes she could at least pick out that she seemed to be surrounded by green.

            Whatever she was lying on shifted. _Woah,_ she marveled. **_That’s_** _soo not my bed_.

            It felt like overly warm boulders. And she could feel it everywhere.

            Every. Where. ( _Ohgodwherearemyclothes!_ )

            Darcy’s breath hitched and she forced her eyes open a little more. 

            Huge concerned green eyes stared back. They were set in furrowed face that took up her whole field of vision.

            “Oh,” she heard herself say.

            A warm blast of air gusted over her as the Hulk huffed a breath. She could have been delirious but he might have been expressing what passed as relief.  

            Raising her throbbing head she realized why she was feeling so much, um, contact. She was cradled in one of Hulk’s arms like a broken doll. A naked, bruised, doll, but still.

            “Hey big guy,” She said, finding her voice rough and torn like sandpaper. “What are we doing here?”

            _OHholySh—don’t look down!!_ Big green was also buck naked. And for the record, she was never ever going to be able to use _‘big’_ as a casual euphemism for the Hulk _ever_ again. Darcy felt her face flame with embarrassment.

            She hoped like hell Bruce wouldn’t remember any of this. _Wait . . . Bruce._ Darcy frowned as a thought bubbled up in her aching head. It was like she could hear an echo of his voice shouting . . . something. Was it a memory? She screwed her eyes shut against the pain. God, her head hurt!

            The Hulk was half hunched over her in a protective huddle. What she saw of the room she was in, she didn’t recognize but maybe it was because it was destroyed beyond recognition. How did they end up in here? Where were the others?

            _Others._ Darcy pressed her palm to her forehead as though attempting to hold her throbbing head together. She had the thought that the Hulk was supposed to be helping the others, not staying with her. It was a vague memory but one that felt right.

            She half blindly reached out for his face with her palm. The Hulk reacted to the soft touch of her hand on his cheek by going very, _very_ still. It felt like an antithesis, something so incredibly large and quick to temper holding himself motionless in reaction to her.

            “Hulk you need to get out of here. You need to find the others.”  She wasn’t quite sure of what she was going to say until the words were out of her mouth. She blamed whatever bump to the head she must have suffered.

            **“** **Darcy hurt**. **”** The Hulk said unhappily.

            She wasn’t sure how reassuring her smile was but she tried. “I’m okay. I’m tougher than I look.”

            Those green eyes weren’t fooled.

            “You have to go,” She urged him, “Please. I’ll wait right here.”

            He made a sorrowful angry noise if that were even possible.

            Darcy fought back frustrated tears. It’s not like she wanted to be left alone, goddammit! He was the only one who had any chance of forcing his way out! “Hulk!” She choked out. “Please!”

            His huge jaw clenched under her hand and any other time she would have marveled at the power just in that one simple movement but they had no opportunity to linger.

He had just set her down with more care than anyone had ever attributed to the green giant when a sound made him pivot in place with a thunderous growl. A boot crunching on debris alerted him to approaching guards. Hulk immediately positioned himself between the enemy and Darcy.

            Two guards had managed to slip into the room before they were noticed. Both were armed. They started scrambling once they realized they had been sighted and Darcy fell/tripped to the floor in her hurry to get out of their view. She must have nicked her lip as she went down because her mouth immediately filled with blood.

            The floor under her arms vibrated as the Hulk roared his irritation as shots glanced off his thick emerald skin. Darcy looked frantically around herself for a spot to wiggle into but it looked like everywhere within reach was mostly exposed. She wedged herself into a corner, unable to do much more than protect her back.

            She watched with a sort of detached horror as the Hulk backhanded one of the guards. It was almost like she felt the felt the wet _crunch_ of his spine snapping as his body was flung violently through the air. The shock of it seemed to jolt her out of her faculties.

            The other guard, sensing his imminent death lobbed a grey canister into the air. Darcy watched expressionlessly as it flipped through the air, end over end, in a perfect shining arc. Everything else was reduced to irrelevant background; Hulk flattening the remaining guard with one hand. The gory rain of blood. Her tripping heartbeat.

            Both ends of the canister exploded outwards before it had a chance to hit the floor, forcefully expelling the gas it contained within.

            Darcy curled in on herself instinctively, distantly wondering why she bothered pulling her arms over her head, her legs into her chest. It wouldn’t stop her from breathing the stupid gas. She felt shocked out of her body. Which was good, if they were doing what she thought they were doing. She didn’t want to be fully present around for what came next.

            “That’s right,” the hateful voice returned to the much abused speakers. “If you leave her now you know we will take her away.” The malice intended was clear and Darcy knew the voice was using her to keep Hulks threat contained.

            **“** **NO!** **”** Hulk was enraged. He threw back his head and howled, his muscles taut with fury.

            Darcy tried to warn him but the gas was everywhere. It filled her nose and clogged her throat with its cloying aftertaste.

            Hulk was standing guard over her but it was his refusal to leave her behind that was going to damn them both. Darcy coughed and coughed, trying to clear her lungs to tell him that they were doing this on purpose but it was no use. Her hands clawed at her throat uselessly.

            Hulk was breathing heavily in his ire but he made no sign that the gas filling the room gave him any pause. He was more threatened by the implied risk to Darcy than anything the funny fog could pose him.

            In order to reassure her of this, he bent down over Darcy. He frowned deeply at her uncontrollable coughing. Poking her in the side earned him a weak slap on the finger. Undaunted, Hulk scooped Darcy up with one hand and tucked her against his chest. Maybe his air was better. He wasn’t having any trouble breathing.

            His large nose passed over the crown of her head, “Darcy smell like Hulk,” his breath wuffed over her warmly, making her shiver in pleasure drowning waves. She pressed her palms flat over the endless seeming expanse of green chest she was held against and struggled to pay attention to his voice and not her liquefying body.

            _I smell like . . . ?_ Darcy had a very helpful/not helpful memory of Bruce bucking underneath her with uncoordinated fervor. A whimper slipped free and one of her hands curled into a fist. It felt like her whole body flushed with realization. _Oh my god. Really? He can smell us? Bann--him?_ Her thoughts were spinning but with less mortification than she expected. In fact she wasn’t feeling much now except **_want._**

              When she looked up at the Hulk in a wordless plea, she took in that his green irises were rimmed in red. That very distant part of Darcy still coherent knew that it wasn’t a good sign. Whether it was the drug or whether it was Hydra pushing Hulk too far it remained to be seen. That little voice of hers that was now completely severed from her body thanks to the massive dose of sex pollen was certain she wouldn’t survive. She just hoped someone got justice for her, and for everyone who had been part of this horrible experiment.                        

            Hulk made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded confused and yet husky with want. He shifted until he cupped Darcy effortlessly in his large hands so that her legs fell to either side of his waist (and if her heels only came down to mid-thigh on him she tried not to think too hard about that—there were other more _worrying_ details).          

            “Hulk no want hurt Darcy,” the gigantic man rumbled through his bared teeth. For his part, the green monster had poor control skills to begin with but this was nothing he had ever experienced before. This primal drive that filled his nose with Darcy’s intoxicating scent? He had never been its slave and he was fighting against what he distantly knew was _wrong_. Girl was nice. Girl was soft ( _Smells like OURS._ _Smells like **MINE**_ ). 

            Darcy was wriggling in Hulks hands. They were so deliciously warm on her bare flesh. She wanted them to press into her, touch her. She knew she was wet. She had to be dripping by now. Her nipples were rock hard little pebbles that dragged indiscriminately across Hulks upper body, teased mercilessly by the coarse black hair lightly covering his chest.

            She could hear herself begging him in a breathless voice she didn’t recognize as her own. It was hazy with lust and desperation. It matched her increasingly frantic movements. She rolled her hot forehead against his skin and moaned his name.

            Hulk’s fingers gripped her tightly, surely leaving long finger-shaped bruises against the backs of her thighs. (Gods, bruises on bruises, now) His breath left him in harsh pants as he fought for control. Control that was swiftly leaving him as Darcy begged for him to do what his body was demanding.

            The most deceitful part was that she already smelled as though they had coupled. It eroded whatever was left of the Hulk’s resistance. Instinct warred with evidence as clearly his size would damage her.

            Darcy was like a flushed limpet, star-fished to his huge chest. Her arms were raised up as though seeking to wrap around his neck but could only cling to his bulging shoulder muscles. Her hair was dewy with their shared body heat. Sticky dark ringlets adhered to the pale curve of her back.

            “Soft,” he hissed between clenched teeth. 

            “Please!” was all Darcy could manage. Her need was painful. All she could think of was being filled. Feeling the mindless pleasure of hard flesh pressing into her. She needed release. She needed him--!

            Hulk’s face was contorted. Against his own wishes his hands were pushing Darcy’s hips downwards towards the source of his tension. His massive cock was standing erect and weeping pre-come, it aimed unerringly for Darcy’s core.

            The first touch of his hot flesh to her slick pussy was like being jolted with a cattle prod. Hulk groaned deeply and she felt the shudder of contact as it passed through his gargantuan body. His fingers tightened on Darcy’s hips as she threw her head back with a throaty keen. The head of his massive cock eagerly jolted along her highly sensitive slit. She wasn’t prepared for how suddenly her body seized in pleasure. Her keen cut off abruptly with a hitched breath and her eyes rolled in her head as her first orgasm washed over her.

            Hulk had to shift his grip so that he didn’t lose hold of her suddenly boneless figure. Somehow he recognized what was happening and felt an answering flash of heat. His hips rolled instinctually as more and more of his hind-brain kicked into gear. They had been reduced by the drug to the basest male and female urges. It had no recognition for incompatibility or consent.

            Emboldened by the slickness he found on his ridged shaft, he placed his tip at her tiny opening. Pressing forward slowly, despite the animalistic hunger coiling in his belly, Hulk rocked forward with short lunges.

            Darcy gasped, wiggling in sudden awareness. Her fingers dug into his sternum, nails drawing blood as she felt Hulk’s enormous member trying to force its way into her tight channel. “Ohmi---” her voice quit on another blunt thrust.  He had to be three times the size of Thor. Easy.  How was she going to—?

            _Don’t think_ , what remained of Darcy’s consciousness bade her.

            In the end, the drug made what would have been unbearably painful, something else. As the veined column of flesh strained to bury itself inside Darcy’s tempting heat, Hydra’s enthusiastic use of gas resulted in a pain free impalement. In fact she felt waves of pleasure so intense she kept blanking out.

            Her face was pressed against green. Her vision was hazy as her world narrowed to the feeling of Hulk’s cock dragging against her insides. In and out, in and out. It felt like she was being emptied and re-filled as though she needed to be remade.

            The Hulk had a devastating hitch to his sharp thrusts that made Darcy come apart again and again. She was spread out on his thickness so that with each lunge forward her hips were forced to shift open in order to take his girth. She wasn’t sure if it was delirium (why wasn’t she _dead_ yet--?) but she could see the bump of his dick pressing on the concave plane of her lower belly as he moved within her.

            Her face was wet with either tears or sweat. Or both. She was practically mindless with lust, exhausted from countless wanton shocks. Her voice was gone, having screamed and begged and moaned until she could no longer make a sound.

            The Hulk was similarly compelled to chase his impending orgasm. His gaze was fixed on the limp female body in his large green hands, his eyes bleeding red in a haze of fury; whether it was lust or actual fury was yet to be determined. His jaw was prominent and locked as his body coiled with tension.

It seemed as though from a distance, Darcy took note as Hulks ass clenched under her dangling heels. She barely recognized the warning for what it was before he pushed her hips down, locking them together tightly before bowing his torso over her head and roaring his release.

_God._

_Fuck._

            Darcy tried to inhale, her eyes widening when she found there was no room for air past the hot rush of liquid that seemed to push into her body. Her eyes rolled back as once more she became a rag doll of wrecked hormones.

 _Please_ , her lips formed as her body trembled and shook, _yes._

            Hulk’s member jerked inside of her with the last of his creamy spend. It fountained from their joined bodies as his hips rocked with aftershocks. Darcy’s eyes met his. She mouthed his name before her eyelids grew exponentially heavy.

            The anguished moan that she heard Hulk make at her sudden unresponsiveness, encouraged her to try to reassure him. But it was like all her strings had been cut. Her body was no longer listening to any signals. Hers, or the drugs.

            Darcy lay limp in his arms.

 

           

            There was wind blowing against her face. It was making her hair whirl around her head in a dizzying eddy that gave no indication which way was up or down.

            _Where did the wind come from--?_ Her confused thoughts surfaced from the darkness before being dragged under again.

 

            Voices.

            There were so many voices. Angry, urgent, sharp. She didn’t know if they were angry with her or not but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. But. They were so loud it was making her head hurt.

            Darcy wanted to cover her ears but she couldn’t feel her body.

            The sharp surge of confusion and adrenaline faded into numbness.

 

            “—turning back?”

            “A week.”

            “Has this ever happened before?”

            “Only that time, y’know with the . . . bullet.”

            _I know those voices_ , her drifting thoughts tried to grasp hold of the familiarity. They slipped through her fingers like sand.

            “…seen her?”

            “Not since. No.”

            She couldn’t make sense of their words so she let the darkness take hold once more.

           

            Slowly, her mind pieced together the weight she was feeling was connected to sensation in her own hand.  Her eyes blinked open with some difficulty as the crust that glued her eyelashes together didn’t seem to want to part. Her surroundings were blurry for a few moments as her eyes readjusted to being open.

            Everything felt--heavy.

            Even her brain felt like it was pressed down under a sandbag.

            So it was totally understandable that she stared at the figure sitting next to her bed, holding her hand, with less comprehension than it normally would have taken her.

            “Jane?” her voice rasped in disbelief.

            The slumped over brunette jumped up with a sharp inhale. “Darcy?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods that was the hardest chapter to write. I don't feel I did it the justice I wanted to but then I never do. It's always better in my head. :)   
> More soon.


	10. Chapter 10

            The Avengers meeting room was quieter than he had ever thought possible, Phil Coulson noted as he followed Natasha in the door. Each of the Avengers sat in their own space, tense and withdrawn, unwilling to make eye contact with fellow team mates. Under the circumstances it was to be expected. If he was honest, it was better than he had hoped. He didn’t relish the idea of broaching the uncomfortable topic they were about to discuss.

            Around the table sat Thor, Steve, Tony, and Clint. Coulson immediately detected the absence of Bruce and Barnes and could guess the reasons for the two most unstable members of the team.

            “Director,” Steve acknowledged with a tight nod. There was a furrow in his brow that indicated his inner turmoil.

            Coulson returned the gesture, “Captain.”

            “Are you going to fill us in on what hell happened?” Clint rumbled. His chipped gaze flicked from one point in the room to the other, restlessly.

            “Indeed,” Thor joined in with his deep voice. It was uncharacteristically grim. “I find myself wondering what sort of evil would require this twisted debauchery.”

            Feeling his face struggle to remain professional, Coulson nodded. “Of course.” He shot a glance at Natasha and she stepped up to the table.  With an efficient flick she drew up a holographic display for the others to see a schematic of the Hydra base where they had been held prisoner. 

            “We had no idea where to start looking for you,” Natasha admitted unexpectedly, “The kidnapping was well executed, tailored specifically to each Avenger. Meant to bring each of you down quickly. From the files we managed to recover, it seems they had several back up plans and specialty teams in place to make it happen. Once you were gone, I couldn’t even track them. My contacts had nothing.”  A trace of frustration laced her tone.

            She returned her gaze to the hologram, “Hidden south of the Tazovsky River in Siberia, this base was in use by Hydra since the late 70’s. Mostly underground it was maintained by a skeleton crew until recently. It is virtually undetectable from any sensors from above ground.”

            She glanced at Tony, “We’re lucky that Stark has such a close connection to his suits.”

            Tony’s lips twisted in acknowledgement. He was sitting in a deceptively casual pose, his chair was tilted back and he was balancing a pen between his fingers. His legs were splayed apart as though he hadn’t a care in the world. But his dark eyes held an unholy light.

            Phil joined in, “We received Stark’s transmission. It was short burst but between Jarvis and Agent Skye we were able to pinpoint where the signal originated. From that we put together a rescue team.”

            Natasha flicked her fingers and the tactical diagram settled over the base diagram. “We planned to storm the base,” she pointed out the points of weakness. “It wouldn’t have been stealthy, they only had one entrance into the base.”

            “But as we were putting the plan in motion it seems the Hulk was making his rather destructive exit.” Coulson added grimly.

            Thor nodded, “Aye. This part I know well. The guards made haste to contain him and forgot to administer their sleeping draught. I was able to call forth Mjolnir at long last.”

            Steve’s brows were drawn downwards in reluctant memory, “Bucky . . . used his metal arm to short out the collar they put on him. So we were able to get out, after that,” He raised his eyes. He didn’t make mention of how shorting out the collar had fried the prosthetic and had caused Bucky immense pain. Or how he went ahead and did it without telling Steve beforehand. _Jerk_. But the team had seen Bucky’s injuries on the Quinjet.

            Stark shrugged, “I pickpocketed some stuff from the guards. Made a thing. Jimmied the door. Let Clint out while I was at it.”

            Clint shrugged. He’d been a little fucked in the head at the time to think clearly about escape plans. Hell, he was still fucked in the head. Now all he could think about were exit points and getting up high. His hands flexed, feeling the phantom press of his bow. 

            Steve cleared his throat, “What was Hydra’s plan? Why did they . . . drug us?”

            Coulson never expected to have to explain what he now had the unfortunate responsibility to give account for. He wished he had a physical file in hand to have an excuse to stare at but instead he mentally straightened his spine.

            “From what we can gather, the purpose of the kidnapping was multifold. However the, _ahem_ , experiment given most priority was concerning something called Project Alpha.”

            At the shared looks of confusion, Phil elaborated, “Hydra was experimenting on groups of male subjects to discover which were prime candidates for becoming super soldiers.” He stopped to rub a thumb over his brow, “I don’t want to know how they came to discover the connection, but apparently Hydra discovered a link between sexually dominant males having more successful results to their version of the serum.”

            _KRAK_

            Everyone looked over to see Steve releasing the piece of table he had broken off in his incredulity.

            When he spoke his voice was carefully controlled, “And what does that have to do with us? We’re already . . . super enough.”

            Natasha’s expression gave nothing away, “Coulson isn’t exaggerating when he says Hydra’s plan had multiple stages. We know that they have been trying to recreate Erskine’s serum since you, Steve, without complete success. What files we managed to save indicated that they had a hypothesis that a cohesive group of heroes applied to a shared sexual partner would yield a super Alpha.”

            “This is bullshit,” Clint grated. “What the hell, Nat?”

            She spared him a blank look and he was quelled somehow.

            “And Lewis?” Tony inserted, “Where does she fit in?”

            For a moment the room was silent under the weight of collective strain.

            Coulson’s lips tightened, “Unfortunately Ms. Lewis’ abduction was not a coincidence, as we first believed. The evidence shows that Hydra has had their eye on Dr. Foster’s intern for a long time.”

            “What?” Thor rumbled in unease. “Why is this?”

            “Hydra believed that Ms. Lewis would be the perfect candidate for bearing the offspring for the candidate of Project Alpha.” Coulson stated matter of fact.

            Any uncommon quiet in the meeting room was abruptly shattered by the declaration.

            “What . . . ?!”

            “Lewis? But--?!”

            “Fuck!!”

            “And is she?” Clint bit out harshly. His gaze suddenly narrowed in on Phil with laser-like intensity. “Is she pregnant?”

            Coulson gave a short shake of his head, “No. Part of the procedure she received upon hospitalization included an emergency contraceptive. Pregnancy was deemed too risky based on her immediate circumstances.”

            “What circumstances?” Tony frowned. He didn’t like the way he felt as though there were things being omitted. Granted, there had to be a lot of ground yet uncovered, but still. Something didn’t feel right.

            Phil and Natasha shared a look.

            “She was recovered from the Hulk,” Natasha said, her voice noticeably less harsh. “He saved her from the base but it took some convincing to get him to surrender her to us. Without knowing all the details, it was pretty clear that they had just been . . . sexually active.”

            “What?” Steve gaped.

            Tony’s clapped a hand over his mouth.

            “The—the Hulk.” Clint stated shortly.

            “How is Darcy faring?” Thor pressed grimly, “Will she be alright?”

            “She will be,” Natasha confirmed, “Her injuries are not as grave as expected.”

            Clint scrubbed his face with his hands, “Holy fuck. Is this nightmare ever going to end?”

            No one had an answer for him.

            “I guess that’s why big green won’t turn back,” Tony muttered under his breath.

            Coulson looked at Tony sharply, “Dr. Banner hasn’t made an appearance, at all?”

            “No.”

            “Where is he?”

            “Locked himself in a containment unit on Level 57.”

            Coulson now looked at Steve, “Status on Barnes?”

            Steve was pale, “He’s waiting to be more stable before approaching Stark to attach the new arm.”

            Nodding, Coulson agreed with that account.

            “What else?” Clint gritted between his teeth.

            Coulson looked at the archer sharply. “We’re not sure actually. We’re still going through the files recovered at the site.”

            Steve looked like he was going to be ill, “So this was just another Hydra attempt to recreate Erskine’s serum?”

            Natasha leaned her hip against the table. “From what I’ve seen so far Hydra had a number of reasons for the experiment.” She held up the first finger, “Demoralize the Avengers; Create a Hydra super race; Eliminate the enemy; Test an experimental drug . . .” She lifted an apologetic shoulder.

            “I feel so much better,” Steve responded tightly. “Thanks for that.”

            “I wish to understand,” Thor interrupted, “Why did the enemy seek out Darcy? She was innocent of all this.”

            “Her innocence was partly why she was targeted,” Coulson sighed. “Data on Ms. Lewis showed that Hydra was aware she had a history of no sexual partners. However that was not the only contributing factor--”

            “The kid was a virgin?” Tony yelped. His pen spun wildly across the table.

            Thor turned away, his expression shuttered against the rest of the room.

            Clint stood abruptly. His body was strung as tight as his bow. His jaw worked as though he fought to say something but after a moment he lost the war with himself and he stormed from the room.  

            Steve looked utterly destroyed. “I’m sorry Phil, I—we’re going to have to continue this meeting later. This is just too much.”

            “I’ll send the files we’ve recovered to your tablets.” Coulson deferred. “If you have any questions—”

            Steve nodded jerkily.

            Left alone in the meeting room with Natasha, Coulson finally sighed. “I think that went well don’t you?”

            “We’re going to have to tell them,” Nat commented.

            He nodded, “I know.”

           

            She must have drifted again because the next time she opened her eyes Jane was sitting in the chair next to the bed, writing something on a pad. Darcy blinked slowly, wondering if she was dreaming.

            She must have made some kind of noise because Jane looked up, her familiar preoccupied SCIENCE! expression fading at the realization that Darcy was awake.

            “Hey!” Jane crooned, sweeping Darcy’s bangs from her forehead. “There you are!”

            Darcy tried to swallow, her throat working around the swollen muscles. “Ja—”

            “Shh, don’t try to speak. Your throat must be dry from being unconscious for so long,” Jane rambled as she reached for the pitcher of water on the side table. She poured a little into a Styrofoam cup and held it to Darcy’s lips carefully.

            Darcy took a small obedient sip. It felt like a cold balm soothing her throat and she let out a small sigh of relief. She drank what remained in the cup thirstily. She eyed the pitcher hopefully but Jane shook her head, “Sorry Darce. You have nothing in your stomach. Too much too fast and you’ll be sick.”

            That little bit of water seemed to revive her enough to remember bits of how she had gotten here. Darcy tensed. “Are the others safe?” She croaked out painfully.

            Jane’s shoulders slumped a little and Darcy’s heart tripped in panic until she nodded, “Everyone got out okay.” She looked up at Darcy through her untidy brown hair, “but I don’t know anything yet. I didn’t even see Thor for more than a few seconds when they got back to the Tower”

            At the mention of Thor, Darcy’s stomach sank in dread.

            Oh gods, this was it. She was going to lose Jane as soon as soon as she found out about what happened between her and Thor!

            Jane sensed the change in Darcy’s mood. She reached for the hand closest to her on the bed and clasped it between hers, “Your safe, Darcy. We’re in Avenger’s Tower and I promise no one can get you here--!”

            Darcy tried to pull away in protest but her body was like a sack of cement. She made a distressed noise when she discovered she couldn’t move. Did she get hurt? Was she _paralyzed_?

            Jane looked on helplessly as Darcy grew more frantic. “Darcy—please!”

            “Can’t!” Darcy huffed with round eyes. “ _Move!_ ”

            “Oh!!” Jane burst out, “Oh!! That’s the drugs!! Darcy it’s okay!! You’ve had spinal anesthesia. It will wear off soon.”

            Darcy whimpered. That didn’t sound good. Why would she need that?

            “Why?” She croaked.

            Jane’s lips tightened and Darcy saw her squeeze her hand even if she couldn’t feel it.

            “The doctors had to examine the extent of your injuries.” She gave Darcy a reassuring smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Your fine, sweetie. Bumps and bruises, nothing serious.”

            Closing her eyes, Darcy wished she could believe her.

 

            “Is she resting?”

            Jane sighed. “She’s asleep, yes.”

            “How is she?”

            “Confused. Frightened. Hurt.” Jane said tiredly, “I can’t even imagine what else she’s feeling right now.”

            There was a long uncomfortable silence.

            “Jane. There are things I must tell you. Can we retire to another room?”

            “Thor?” Jane’s voice was worried. “Is everything all right?”

            “Not all is well, my Jane. I must confess something to you and it is making my heart heavy.”

            “You’re scaring me.”

            “That is not my intent . . . please, come with me.”

           

             A few moments after the muffled click of the door signaled she was alone, Darcy flicked back the covers and grimaced as she rolled over heavily, her body still feeling thick and deadened from the blockers. She couldn’t stay here! Jane was going to hate her, like Thor already must.

             Darcy bit her lip as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She blinked away the tears blurring her vision. She didn’t belong here. She was doing everyone a favor by getting out of their hair.

             Guilt roiled heavily in her gut. _It’s my fault._

           


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloodstream - Ed Sheeran is my song of choice for this chapter.
> 
> Another reminder to those of you with triggers, please refer to warnings. Tks.

            Tony pulled out a metal chair and sat down heavily. A bottle of 1937 Glenfiddich hung loosely in his hand.

            “So I can honestly say this is a first,” he stated, rather bluntly. He stared blindly ahead. “I mean it’s not like I haven’t, y’know, done my fair share of sleeping around so it shouldn’t be a big thing. Right? Yeah it was under compulsion of a fucking Hydra roofie. Except _she_ never . . .”

            He took a swig straight from the bottle and pointed with his finger, still gripping the neck of the bottle precariously, “I tried to treat her . . . b--who am I fucking kidding?! I was just being my normal dick self. I was more concerned with picking out holes in security than fighting th---FUCK!!” He suddenly roared.

            There was a distant smash as the bottle struck the wall across the room.

            Tony blinked uncomprehending at his empty hand.

            “Whoops.” That was a tragic waste of good spirits.

            His empty hand swept upwards and dragged through his dark hair, tugging painfully at the roots. “I don’t—I can’t—you need to help me.” He appealed to a dark figure hunched in a massive containment unit taking up most of the room.

            The dimly lit figure of the Hulk made no sign he heard the plaintive billionaire.

            Tony exhaled heavily.  

            “They said that she woke up. She was talking to Foster.” Tony’s eyes were shadowed with churning emotions.

            He stood up listing to one side before he steadied himself. He made his way over to Hulks self-imposed exile and placed his hand on the hulk-proof glass, “She’s okay big guy. You didn’t hurt her.” Under his breath he continued, “No more than the rest of us, anyway.”

            Aloud he continued, “I need you Bruce. I don’t trust Coulson. Something isn’t being said and we need to figure it out.”

            His arm dropped to his side. With his shoulders sagging, Tony left the room.

 

            She knew it was a bad idea almost right away.

            Darcy had no idea how much progress she had made from the med bay but at least it no longer looked like she was in the middle of an ER episode. There had to be elevators around somewhere however she didn’t think it was likely she would continue unnoticed if she tried to ease her way onto one. She looked a little conspicuous in her paper thin hospital gown. She’d grabbed Jane’s sweater in her haste to escape her room, so at least she could be grateful her parts weren’t on display. Too many people had seen her intimately. She wasn’t in a hurry to add to the list.

            The steady burn of pain in her abdomen was growing. She cradled her arm around her waist protectively while using the other to lean against the wall, sucking in shallow gulps of air. With the return of feeling to her limbs, came the not so subtle reminder that she was in the ICU for a reason. If she thought of how she ended up there, her vision started to grey around the edges.

            _Not now._ Darcy struggled, _can’t lose it now. Later._  

            She reached out with her hand blindly and wasn’t expecting to suddenly find herself grasping open air. Darcy pitched forward with a pained yelp and landed hard on her knees and elbows.

            _New Bruises. Yay._

            It took her a few moments to gather herself up off the floor. She was tempted to just stay there. A wave of weariness combined with the pain made a compelling argument for curling up in a ball.

            Huffing for air, she climbed up the side of the wall. The wall that revealed itself to be part of an elevator. Smelling freedom Darcy pounded the button for the floor with her, Jane and Thor’s suites. She needed her bag and some clothes before leaving the building. She sagged heavily into the corner as the elevator started to move.

 

            He didn’t care what anyone else thought. Up in the air vents, Clint found it easier to breathe. The familiar press of the shaft walls against his back were comforting, lending him the opportunity to sort through his chaotic thoughts.

            After a while he found himself moving aimlessly. Letting his intimate knowledge of the building’s inner workings be his guide. It was second nature to check the usual perimeter. Nothing was out of place, except where he could tell Barnes had already swept through. His jaw clenched as he fought the instinct to feel threatened by the other assassin. They had a tense but professional respect for each other. The ducts were his ‘territory’ but he still had to remind himself that having the ex-Winter Soldier do the occasional sweep hurt his pride, nothing else.

            He was sure they both were feeling the overwhelming urge to check and re-check security. Another thing that they both had in common. Must be left over from having their brains scrambled, he concluded with a bitter sniff.

            Clint found himself above the Med Bay with no little reluctance. It was routine to check this branch of air vents but he could feel his tension ratchet up as he neared the room where Darcy Lewis was being monitored.

            As he came in view of the bed he blinked in incomprehension at the empty bed. The sheets were turned back and rumpled, the room unoccupied. Clint froze for a moment as his brain scrambled for an explanation.

            “Nat, was Lewis moved?” he spoke into his com. His voice sounded a hell of a lot calmer than his rioting pulse.

            “No,” returned Nat’s clipped voice. “Why?”

_Fuck!_ His brain panicked.

            “She’s not in her room.” He hissed.

            Clint dropped noiselessly from the grate and immediately began to take stock of the empty hospital room. When he found the IV discarded at the edge of the bed, droplets of blood and long-emptied drip fluid on the mattress he knew the medical staff hadn’t simply taken Darcy away for a test. His pulse ratcheted in concern. _Where--?_

            He spun as the door creaked opened behind him. Jane Foster and Thor filled the doorway.

            “What--?” Jane started to say. Her red-rimmed eyes went to the empty bed and shot back to Clint. “Where’s Darcy?!” She demanded.

            “That’s what I’d like to know.” Clint ground out.

            Thor was grim, “Jarvis, my friend, can you tell us of the Lady Darcy’s whereabouts?”

            “Ms. Lewis has just exited a freight elevator on the 57th floor.” Jarvis supplied.

            “What is she _doing_?” Jane wondered out loud.

            Clint’s lips thinned. “My guess? She’s trying to leave,” his voice was abrupt and clipped. Guilt pooled hot and acidic in his throat.

            “We need to retrieve her,” Thor said in a low voice. His blue eyes were wounded. “She is still in need of healing.”

            Jane looked between the two men with clear misgivings. A newly fledged and worn awareness flickered in the depths of her brown eyes. “No offense but you two need to stay out of this. _I’ll_ get Darcy. You find out where the hell the staff disappeared to while this was happening.” The petite scientist pushed past her godly boyfriend and hurried towards the elevator.

            “I will stay,” Thor told Clint, “You must help Jane.”

 

            It was a bit much to deal with the hot poker of pain banding her stomach and lower back and stealing her breath. When a headache jumped on the pain wagon pretty much as soon as the elevator stopped moving Darcy quickly lost grip on her drive to leave the tower.

            Ok, ok, _really_ bad idea to leave behind the morphine drip, she admitted to herself as she dragged herself down an unfamiliar corridor, her shoulder dragging against the wall as she used it to prop herself up.

            Darcy raised her blurry eyes, searching. There had to be a place where she could . . . where she could . . . rest. Just for a little bit. Without worrying about seeing Jane’s concerned brown eyes, or Thor—

            Her vision blurred hot and she shuffled painfully to a stop. Her breath was coming sharp and painful in her chest. The memory of Thor’s voice rumbling through her like distant thunder, made her skin prickle. She’d wanted— _no_. Not mine, she reminded herself viciously. So very much, (her breath hitched) not mine.

_Badbadthisiswhatididn’twantbadsobad_.

            Her knees were turning to jelly, her arms and hands were tingling like thousands of tiny sharp prickly needles. _Huh_ , even her lips felt numb. Darcy could feel the breath wooshing from her lungs but it was like it wasn’t going anywhere. She felt like she was suffocating. Her heart began to pound violently in her chest.

            Not watching where she was going, Darcy slid aimlessly past an open door. Left abruptly without support, she pitched into the void with a little breathless exhalation of shock, not even prepared to catch herself on her (seemingly detached) arms.

            She landed gracelessly on her shoulder, snapping the side of her head against the concrete floor with a sick thud.

            Darkness was hungry to reclaim her.

 

            Hulk remained in his bleak huddle in the corner of the containment unit and huffed in irritation at being disturbed again. Despite not being tempted to leave his self-imposed prison, he couldn’t help tuning his senses to who he automatically thought was his friend. Expecting the tiny metal man to finish a thought, or attempt once more to coax him to his _smallfragileannoying_ persona, Hulk waited with a tiny swell of annoyance.

            The minutes ticked by without any further revealing noise. Despite himself Hulk was curious. Tony would not have had the restraint to remain quiet for so long. Hulk raised his head and looked out at the room with sullen eyes.

            There was a crumpled form on the floor just inside the door.

            Hulk was half way to his feet before he knew what he was doing. He knew those soft curves. He’d seen them too many times, images replayed in remorseless detail during his waking and sleeping hours; sometimes lifeless, sometimes limp with unconsciousness, sometimes rigid with accusation.

            Huge hands splayed on the display glass of the containment unit, Hulk tried to sense if she was conscious. He was too far away. All he could see was the slump of Darcy’s body on the cold floor, the messy spill of her hair hiding her face from view. Huffing in growing anxiety, Hulk scanned the inside of his containment unit for a way out (he knew better). There was a panel big enough for Bruce to enter a code but it was too miniscule for the Hulk. Regardless, he mashed his big fingers against the screen. He needed to help her. The screen blipped a red ‘ _locked’_ script for his efforts.

            Returning to the window, Hulk smashed his hands against the surface with a roar of frustration. His hope that she would stir at the sound was in vain. She remained motionless. Hulk felt the unfamiliar icy cold prickle of fear. He couldn’t keep smashing, the containment unit was armed with Nite-Nite gas if he got too violent.

            As much as he hated ( _LoathedSEETHED_ ) the idea of turning back into Banner he was out of options. He couldn’t leave her there. She could be hurt. She could by _dying._ Hulk let out a ragged moan of distress.

            He didn’t want to hurt her more. He tried to stay as far away as he could bear, knowing that he was the reason she was whisked away from him so quickly upon retrieval by the others. He had only put up token resistance because he _knew_. But it was so hard to go against the instinct to protect what he felt down to his mitochondria was _theirs_.

            As though sensing what was happening, Hulk could feel his other persona stirring.

            Hunched over as the change began to transform his body, Hulk kept his gaze locked on Darcy as an anchor. For the first time he fought _against_ fighting it. He couldn’t help her as the Hulk, locked up in the containment unit, but Dr. Banner could.

            The large green hands braced on the window began to shrink and slide downwards.

 

            “Why are you following me?” Jane all but snarled as she flew down the hallway.

            “You’re not the only one worried about her,” Clint said tightly.

            He could basically hear the tiny scientist’s teeth grinding. Thor must have told her what happened then, he surmised. Fucking great.

            He had bigger things to worry about though. Like the fact that when they had stepped off the elevator onto the 57th floor and Jarvis lit up the hallway as though he was directing them towards Darcy, he’d realized belatedly what else was on that floor.

            “Fuck! Foster stop--!” Clint barked as he caught sight of which door was ajar. He reached back and unfolded his bow with a snap.

            Jane whirled around indignantly “That’s Dr. Foster to--!” Her eyes caught the bow and widened incredulously. “What are you doing--?!”

            Clint only tightened his jaw and shouldered past her, his weapon at a cautious low ready.

            As they were just coming abreast of the door, they were met by the seriously ruffled form of a half-naked Bruce Banner carrying an unconscious Darcy in his arms.

            Clint had only started to raise the bow when he lowered it again. He was seriously conflicted at the sight of the physicist and his armload but he just shouldered his man-pain to the growing list of things to deal with later.

            “What happened?” Clint snapped, business-like.

            Bruce didn’t even pause in his focused path to the elevator, “I don’t know exactly. I just woke up and she was in the room on the floor.” His voice hardened, “Who let her out of bed in this condition?”

            “She made a run for it,” Clint filled him in grimly.

            “Darcy?” Jane was saying in a lost voice, her hands hovering hesitantly for her friend.

            “We need to get her upstairs, she may have hit her head when she fell,” Bruce said, his eyes dark. “I won’t know anything until I can scan her.”

            Jane seemed to shake herself out of her bewilderment, her gaze narrowing on her fellow scientists face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She said flatly.

            Bruce’s lips tightened.

            “I really don’t care.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is everyone who wrote me a comment about how much they loved my crazy-ass twisted story and wanted more. I'm still here! Thanks for being patient. You're all awesome!
> 
> Trigger warnings: All the triggers, just to be safe. But specifically Panic Attacks.

Thor wasn’t sitting, nevertheless he seemed to _rise_ at the sight of a barely clothed Bruce Banner carrying Darcy back into the med bay. The doctor was followed closely by a gliding silent Barton, and anxious Jane.

“Is she alright?” asked Thor urgently. He barely blinked at the sight of his self-exiled team mate, knowing that there would be an explanation when there were less pressing matters at hand.  

“I really have no idea,” came Bruce’s tense answer. He carefully placed a limp Darcy in the bed and turned to the nearby equipment. “I need to read her charts, and I need Jarvis to do a scan.”

“Already done, Dr. Banner. Results are awaiting your examination.” Jarvis’ unruffled voice cut in.

“Thank you, Jarvis.” Bruce said absently. The only sign of his discomfort outwardly was the very slight tinge of green still clinging to his skin. He clearly wasn’t happy about what he was reading in Darcy’s charts. Then again how could he?

The color of Bruce’s complexion hadn’t escaped Clint’s attention. Only the minute tightening of the lines around his eyes betrayed his concern. “Banner, maybe you should read those reports somewhere less . . . triggering.”

There was a loaded pause where everyone’s gaze seemed frozen on the rigidity of Bruce’s bare back.

“I already know.” Bruce’s harsh voice finally cut the silence. “The majority of what’s in here . . . Tony kept the Other guy in the loop and I . . . remember more of it than I wish I did.” He let out a soft bitter laugh. “I’m not going to explode in rage at some shocking revelation.” _At something **I** did_ , was left unspoken but understood nonetheless. He turned around to face them, and his gaze was hard to meet. “I do have an obligation to her though. One that I intend to keep.”

With that, Bruce turned back to his work, ignoring the rest of the room.  

Hanging back, Jane chewed her thumb nervously as she watched the events play out. Her eyes flicked uneasily to Thor and back to where Darcy lay unresponsive in the bed. The men, damaged in some kind of sick Hydra experiment were showing signs of being drawn to Darcy with more than ordinary attachment. Jane felt an uncomfortable flush at the thought. It wasn’t that Darcy didn’t mean something to the team, and she supposed even more so now that they had something so _horrific_ in common with her, but there was something _off_ about the way the three men were acting in proximity to the vulnerable girl. It made the fine hairs on her neck prickle with unease. Jane wanted to wrap her arms around Darcy protectively, but doing so she knew whatever she wanted to protect her friend from was long past done.

The medical staff that Stark hired to take care of Avengers business were hovering in the doorway but didn’t make any move to come forward. They were too nervous at the presence of Dr. Banner to treat the patient. With an annoyed huff at their incompetence Jane stepped forward to help Bruce reattach the I.V. and other monitoring equipment.

Finished taping the lines to Darcy’s arm, she couldn’t help caressing her friends bruised skin with soft fingers. Jane couldn’t help remember the awkward conversation with Thor earlier and swallowed past the thick lump in her throat. She remembered the way his shoulders had hunched over and his voice had deepened with guilt as he explained how he and Darcy had been drugged. The intimacy that Hydra had forced between them, and apparently between Darcy and the other Avengers. Jane remembered being horrified, then increasingly numb, as he gave her a brief breakdown. She remembered thinking. _What does this **mean**? _ From a scientific point of view there were so many things wrong with what had been done she couldn’t even fathom the madness of it all. From a personal standpoint . . .

She felt Thor’s presence across the room, but couldn’t meet his gaze. She knew what happened wasn’t his fault. Her anger and frustration was meant for Hydra and what they had done. It was easier to be angry rather than hurt when she had no right to be. Her boyfriend needed her support right now but all she could see was Darcy’s bruised and damaged body.

Darcy hadn’t asked for any of this. The college student had willingly followed Jane into every mess without hesitating. Heck, she practically dragged Jane under the arms at some points. She would never have gotten where she was in her research without Darcy’s help.

To Jane’s knowledge, the younger woman didn’t have any family of her own to turn to. No mention even of any close friends, and Jane was admittedly absentminded when it came to anything that wasn’t Science! However even she would have noticed a social life apart from their ragtag little crew. Jane couldn’t help feeling as though somehow it was her fault that her plucky assistant was drawn into the dangerous world they found themselves in after New Mexico. She owed it to her friend to be there.

“Banner?”

Jane’s musings were cut short by Clint’s voice.

“What do the readings say?”

Bruce’s eyes briefly flicked up from the screen. “From the swelling on her temple Darcy must have hit her head when she fell. She’ll have to be monitored since she had such a bad concussion when she was . . . brought in. The readings are all in normal range though, so that’s reassuring.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “She attempted too much too soon. Her body wasn’t ready. Other than bed rest and monitoring her pain medication there’s not much more we can do right now.”

Everyone seemed to be sobered by his words, eyes drawn to the unconscious woman on the bed.

“Then I say we let her rest.” Jane said firmly. She tucked the blankets closer to Darcy’s chin. “We’ll make sure to monitor her remotely and let her heal.”

Without any argument to raise to the contrary, Bruce was grudgingly expelled from the room. He looked back at Darcy with a heavy gaze which he lowered before following the others out.

 

“Jarvis, give me the status on the other members of the Avengers.” Natasha commanded as she stepped out of the elevator onto the residential floor.

“Sir is in his suite, sleeping. Ms. Potts is with him. Sgt. Barnes and Captain Rogers are in their apartment, awake. Agent Barton and Prince Thor are leaving the Med Bay with Dr. Foster. Dr. Banner is reporting to the Head of Medical.” Jarvis reported.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Natasha frowned to herself but cleared her expression before rapping her knuckles on Steve and Bucky’s door.

She picked out the muffled sound of a bowl being set down on a hard surface and the soft tread of approaching feet on low-pile carpet. The door opened to the unsurprised face of Steve Rogers.

“Natasha.”

“Steve.”

His lips twitched wryly. He stood to the side to let her in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What, I can’t drop in on you boys?” Nat deadpanned. She spotted the pancake batter that Steve had been mixing at her interruption and turned to face him.

“When there’s been an unreported AWOL in the Med Bay?” Steve returned, too-calmly.

Nat lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “It was looked after.”

“I know.”

A tiny sound had her swinging around to meet the image of Barnes dropping down from the air duct.

Nat’s lips tightened. _Ah._

Steve returned to his bowl. “Everything okay?” He asked his best-friend. He transferred the batter to a hot griddle.  The mix spattered in the hot oil before the fragrance of pancakes began to scent the air.

Bucky returned the hatch to its original state before replying. “Subject is being monitored for concussion but otherwise unharmed.” His voice had a rough quality to it, as though it hadn’t been used much lately. Natasha wouldn’t be surprised if that was indeed the case, all things considered. The situation had to be especially hard on the assassin’s control.

The tense line of Steve’s shoulder’s relaxed a fraction at Bucky’s report. Though it sounded a bit too Winter Soldier for his comfort.

“Bruce?” He questioned.

“Current personality is in control.” Bucky said through tight lips. The irony of his observation was not lost on those in the room.

Steve nodded shortly. He set out the plates with deliberate focus, not wanting the atmosphere in the room to get any tenser and flip Bucky’s own duality over the edge.

Natasha crossed her arms and fought the urge to be annoyed at being caught unawares. They were her team mates after all. She should expect them to be competent. She just didn’t expect them to be rallying so soon. Then again . . .

“So, Natasha. I assume you’re here to tell us what Coulson didn’t get a chance to finish in the briefing,” Steve prodded not so subtly.

She allowed herself a half-smile before confirming his suspicions. “Yes. Although this is something that we need the whole team present for.”

“I don’t like this,” growled Bucky suddenly.

Steve didn’t answer, sliding perfectly golden pancakes onto three plates.

“It’s not good news,” Nat agreed. “But we’ve dealt with worse.”

“That’s not promising,” Steve allowed. He slid a plate along the island towards Natasha. “But she’s right.” He looked at Bucky, “We’ve dealt with worse. We’ll get through this too.”

Steve looked down at his breakfast. If only his words didn’t taste like ashes in his mouth, he might be able to believe them himself.

 

Tony had no idea how he found himself in his workshop. One moment he was stumbling drunkenly into his spacious living room and the next he found himself completely sober and standing on the threshold of self-designated ‘play-space’.

“Huh.” He shrugged and continued forward.

“Jarvis, I’m hoping you can recover anything I destroyed in the past few hours. I may have been a little compri-mi-yi-yi- _yized!!_ ” His deflecting banter turned into a sharp yelp of surprise as he came upon the scene taking place before him.

One of his Suits, the Mark 42 was standing between the spread knees of a very flushed and disheveled poly-sci intern. It was braced over Darcy's reclined position, moving its power-driven hips in a _very_ telling manner.

Tony’s head tilted sideways trying catch a better angle. “Um . . . Jarvis? I’m very sure I didn’t add that feature to my design.” His dark eyebrows were raising into his hairline. “But I’ll make a note--”

“Correct sir. Dum-E and ‘U’ found some corrupt files.” Jarvis informed him, sounding disapproving, “They decided to improvise.”

Tony could imagine which files Jarvis was talking about. _Oops._

He took in a few more details that he missed. In his shock he neglected to notice how Darcy was pinned to the table, her wrists held above her head by Dum-E’s pincher fingers.

It seemed she finally noticed his presence. Darcy let out a wrecked sound that did not _at all_ go right to his groin. Tony scratched his nose. “Aheh--what was that?” He cleared his throat.

She turned her gaze on him and those smoky blue eyes seemed to convey a lot. He wasn’t sure if the prevailing sentiment was ‘fuck you,’ ‘fuck me,’ ‘what the hell Tony?!’ ‘aksfhghl!’ ‘what even is my life?’ or a combination of the aforementioned.  The rather impressive tent pitching the front of his pants was pretty convinced it was a green light and he found himself edging closer.

Darcy was breathless and unable to respond, either way. Mark 42 was keeping up a pretty grueling pace. Now that Tony was closer, he could see the surprisingly anatomically correct metal cock pistoning into her sopping pussy.

For a _split second_ Tony was torn between wanting to examine the fine tuning of the intriguing metal organ and the temptation of the yet to be fully exposed breasts jolting right under his face. But it was really not a hard decision. He lit up like a little boy unwrapping a present on Christmas morning as he flicked open the straining buttons of her blouse and got a unrestricted view of her lace-covered breasts.

Her broken moan hit him right in the middle of his spine and it traveled like an electric current right to his cock.

“Jesus kid, you’re a sight.” Tony huffed as he lightly twisted her nipples.

“Ton--eee!!” Darcy nearly rose from the table with a shriek, her back arching against the onslaught of sudden orgasm. As she shook, Dum-E continued to restrain her wrists while the Suit slowed its demanding pace incrementally to a complete stop.

He was so enthralled by Darcy’s blissed out half-conscious state that he didn’t notice that the Suit hadn’t disengaged. When he finally looked up he realized Mark 42’s gaze was locked on him.

“What?” Tony said out loud.

Jarvis spoke up. “I believe, sir that 42 is waiting for you to take his place.”

If Tony had circuitry he was sure some of it would have fried right in that moment.

He cleared his throat which was suddenly parched, “Right. Of course.” He rounded the table where Mark 42 stood sentry between Darcy’s trembling legs. When Tony was deemed close enough the Suit made a slight motion with its hip joints and removed its glistening cock-like appendage from the splayed out intern. But not without a robotic-sounding whine.

“Oh I know buddy,” Tony muttered absently. He reached for his belt and undid the buckle in what felt like a daze. He was staring at the swollen bare pussy laid before him on the desk like an offering. He reached forward almost reverently and touched the slick warm flesh.

Shoving his pants out of the way, Tony grasped his hard cock, pumping it a few times before rubbing the his pre-come over her pussy lips. “Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re going to feel so good.”

He wasn’t kidding. Being worked over by the Mark 42 had left Darcy hot and swollen. As Tony pressed forward into her tightness, he groaned at the incredible sensation of her searing hot walls pushing back at his penetration.

Darcy reacted as Tony slowly buried himself inside her. She pulled at Dum-E’s grip and lifted her hips with a low whine.

“That’s it,” Tony groaned. Her shifting only drew him deeper into her velvet depths. “Fuck kid.”

“Tony!” Darcy gasped out his name.

He clenched his jaw in order not to blow his load preemptively. God she sounded _wrecked_.  He intended to pace himself but who was he kidding. He’d been worked to the edge just watching her getting fucked on his desk by his own Suit.

Every deep thrust made his stomach muscles tighten in anticipation. He was burning with the desperation to fill her up.  Sink in, balls deep, and fill her with his release.

He blinked.  

 _Wait_ … _why does that feel familiar?_

_What?_

_Something I need to remember…_

_She feels so fucking good…_

Tony’s head bobbed as pleasure coiled lower in his spine, making his balls ache with the need for release. One of his hands, still on Darcy’s delicious milky white globe, pulled and pinched at her now slightly swollen nipple; dark pink and raw from his attentions. She licked her pouty lips before opening her mouth in a silent cry of pleasure, her neck arched.

He felt her pussy clench down. It felt like the breath was punched out of him as the slick flutters worked right up to the root of his dick. He knew he must look poleaxed but he really couldn’t give a shit. With a surprised-sounding grunt, Tony hunched over Darcy’s mewling body and shuddered and twitched his release.

Sweat dripped from his nose as he anchored himself to Darcy’s hips, his fingertips indented in her creamy flesh. It felt like he was emptying everything he had into her. He grunted with every ball-aching spurt.  

His legs felt like ballistic jelly by the time he was finished. With a sensitive hiss, Tony withdrew his half-hard member. He looked up at Dum-E and nodded his head. The robot read his pseudo-father’s intent and released Darcy’s wrists from his claws. Darcy sighed in relief as her arms dropped to her sides but other than that she remained content to lay exhausted and debauched, on his desk.

Tony felt the familiar tug of a self-satisfied smirk on his lips that quickly died when he saw the figure standing behind Dum-E. The familiar furrowed brow, brown eyes, greying brown hair and mustache stood watching him, hands in the pockets of his designer suit.

It was the disappointment in those brown eyes that made Tony’s chest tighten with panic. In that moment he remembered everything that had happened with Hydra and Darcy. He felt the crushing weight of guilt and horror strike him at what he’d done. What he’d done _again_. Tony pressed a hand against the ache of shame under his breastbone. He looked at his father staring disapprovingly at him. “I couldn’t stop them, Dad—!” He blurted, feeling twelve years old again and caught red-handed.

Howard looked away from him in clear dismissal.

Tony doubled over in agony, “Dad please--!”

 

“ad?!” Tony shouted, sitting straight up in bed with a flail. His dark eyes were wide and unseeing.

“Tony!”

He didn’t feel the hand on his chest. He was breathing hard and sharp, a whine climbing up his throat as his airways tightened. The hand was joined by an arm wrapping around his back in a hug. A face pressed into his cheek and persistently called him back from his nightmare by calmly talking him through his panic attack.

“It’s okay, Tony. It was just a dream.” Someone murmured.

He blinked rapidly. The voice was familiar. _Safe._

“Pepper?” He said hoarsely.

“There you are,” Pepper said with relief. “C’mon, lay back down. Relax.”

He let himself be pushed back into the pillows. Pepper ducked under his arm and snuggled up against his side, her hand splayed on his chest.

“You want to talk about it?”

He was still breathing hard, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He thought of Pepper’s question and how he would explain the monumentally fucked up dream he’d just had. He shook his head sharply. That was a big fat no. Instead he buried his nose in her temple and breathed in her soothing scent of vetiver and vanilla.

It seemed to be a while before his heart beat settled and he found himself dozing in Pepper’s embrace. He jerked awake every time he found himself courting sleep, unwilling to take a chance that he’d find himself back in the same dream.

One of his attempts to remain awake stirred Pepper from her sleep and she stretched in his arms with an incoherent mumble. Her eyes popped open a moment later. “Jarvis what time is it?” She asked, clearing the sleep from her voice.

“Four a.m., Ms. Potts.” Jarvis replied.

She wiggled free of Tony’s arms. “Sugar!” She cursed, “I told the others I would send you to them when I could sober you up.”

Tony smirked at her bemusedly. “Sugar?” He focused on.

She rolled her eyes hard, pushing her tousled red hair out of her eyes. “Tony, the others are having a meeting. Nat apparently wants to finish the meeting that was interrupted. It must be important.”

Tony was already swinging his legs out of bed with a sigh. ( _Oh hey, wet and sticky pants—I feel like a fricken teenager again. How do I get over to the closet without Pepper noticing anything? Shit._ ) He cleared his throat. “Why so early in the morning?” He shuffled deliberately over to his walk-in closet, keeping his back to his fiancé.

“Darcy tried to leave last night.” Pepper filled him in, her voice turning solemn.

Tony stilled, “What?”

Pepper looked at his back sympathetically. “She made it as far as Bruce’s containment room before she collapsed. He turned back and carried her to medical.”

The tense line of his shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Brucie’s back?”

Her lips curled fondly. “He is.”

Out of sight for the moment, Tony did a rapid clean-up with his t-shirt before tossing everything into the laundry chute and getting re-dressed.  He would shower later. Tony’s eyes met his reflection in the mirror that filled the wall behind a rack of clothes. His eyebrows curved downwards in a frown and his lips tightened determinedly.  

“Ok. Time to uncover some secrets.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short lead up to the next chapter  
> *ducks*

Everyone is finally present before Natasha makes any move to start the meeting. What becomes clear is the way she physically keeps it from being informal. Going so far as to sit down in an arm chair, instead of standing in visual command. That she chooses a chair opposite most of the others is deliberate, but not glaring. With the lingering smell of pancakes and syrup on the air it’s difficult to maintain hostility.

Difficult, not impossible. Bruce still looks like a cat whose fur has been raked against the grain.

“Okay, anybody want to tell me what we’re doing here in Gramp’s apartment, before sunrise? I didn’t even get any pancakes,” Tony said blithely from his perch on the arm of the couch.

Steve rubbed his forehead without comment.

“I didn’t think we could afford to put this off any longer,” Natasha said calmly.

A fission of tension passed through the room.

“Put what off?” Clint bit out. He tried to read his partner for hints.

Natasha surveyed them with an impassive gaze. “There’s information we didn’t have a chance to share the last time. It’s crucial it comes out now and while it’s still under our control. What I have to say could have a lasting impact on the team.”

“I do not like the sound of this,” Thor said lowly.

“Where’s Coulson?” Steve asked, eyes narrowing.

Nat nodded her chin at the Captain in acknowledgement. “He’s following some leads in the field. We have a few names that he’s looking into personally.”

Clint’s eyes sharpened. “Names? Like _who--?_ ”

Nat switched her gaze to him. She was silent for a moment. “Among others, Brock Rumlow. Wolfgang Von Strucker . . . and Loki.”

There were various exclamations of disbelief and apoplectic fury throughout the room.

Natasha waited, more or less patiently while most of the anger worked its way to its logical end. There was a lot of pacing, and (not surprisingly) accusations being flung. She kept a wary eye on Bruce and Bucky, both men showing dangerous signs of withdrawal. Clint was all but vibrating with the need to do violence. Thor looked both incredulous, like he didn’t know what to believe any more, and tense, as though he was ready to lash out at a moment’s notice.  Steve’s jaw was locked in his trademark ‘I’m about to jump out of a plane without a parachute’ expression Nat knew so well; and Tony, he was in the kitchen making coffee.

“What?” Tony raised his eyebrows at the looks he was receiving. “I’m going to need a shitstorm of caffeine if I’m going to tackle this much of a clusterfuck.”

Ignoring Stark, Steve was on his feet doing what he did best. His brain was feverishly trying to understand how this new information impacted what they already knew. “Rumlow and Strucker are Hydra so that’s not a complete surprise. Just an extremely unpleasant one. Why Loki?” He lifted his blue eyes to narrow them in on Thor. “I thought you said he died.”

Thor spread his hands, “I swear to you. I felt his life force ebb from my arms.” He made another circuit of the room. “I cannot explain my brother’s presence here. Other than more trickery.” His voice was heavy.

“Why Loki?” Tony demanded, his eyes glinting.

“It’s only speculation at this point, but we assume it had to do with the drug used. There are several chemical components that suggest extraterrestrial origin.” Natasha replied.

“Who else would you consult for a psychoactive drug that would erode consent?” Clint said bitterly.

“Have they been apprehended?” came Bucky’s deceptively quiet voice.

Nat measured his expression closely. “No. Not yet. When we get closer we will bring you in.”

There was an almost imperceptible dip of his dimpled chin.

“Is there any chance Hydra will want to recapture Ms. Lewis?” Bruce spoke up, his voice tight. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, holding onto his elbows as though to physically hold himself back from Hulking out.

The red headed spy looked almost apologetic. “It is highly likely yes. At the moment, if Hydra can manage to regroup and find Darcy under weak surveillance then I think that the answer would be inevitable. Her heritage alone would make her an investment.”

“Okay, about that.” Tony interrupted, “Anybody else wondering if the kid is a secret Asgardian Princess or something?”

Natasha’s lips pressed together. There was a strange look in her eyes. Clint, who was the most experienced with translating her many micro expressions was taken aback to recognize a spark of sympathy.

“Nat?” Clint prompted uneasily.

She huffed a tiny sigh. “What I tell you next is sensitive information and needs to remain a secret from all non-Avenger personnel. Agreed?”

She waited until she received nods from all around the room.

“Darcy Lewis is biologically Tony Stark’s daughter.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reaction to the revelation behind Darcy's parentage.

“ ** _What._** ”

Despite the other shocked exclamations in the room, it was the way Tony hissed it; harsh and clipped, that sent chills down Natasha’s spine.

The billionaire set his coffee mug down on the side table with hard crack. Hot coffee lipped over the edge but went unnoticed. Tony was pushing himself to his feet, his expression a study of chaos; confusion, rage, and horror vied for first place. 

He cocked his head, “I don’t understand. Let me try to get this straight. Did you just say that Darcy is  _my daughter?!!_ ” He choked on the words.

Natasha tightened her lips and nodded. “Hydra had a whole file on her. From her birth parents to her most recent resume. We wanted to verify 100% that the genetic material was, in fact, what the file claimed.”

Tony’s dark eyes looked almost vacant, “How the hell is this possible?” He asked, barely audible. Giving his head a shake, Tony tried again, almost challenging, “Who’s her mother then?” 

“Dr. Maya Hansen,” Nat said quietly, knowing what had happened between Tony and Aldrich Killian over a year ago.

This news startled a laugh out of Tony. It was a horrible, wrecked sound. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

Bruce was slowly making his way closer to his friend, for the most part undetected.

“Does she know?” Tony shook with the force of his demand. “Does she  ** _know--?_** ”

“No.” Natasha sounded like she was calming a spooked horse. “She has no idea. She was put up for adoption when she was three months old. I don’t even think she knows she’s adopted.”

And fuck if that didn’t make Tony feel worse somehow. In ways he would examine later. Maybe. It might be a while before he was sober again.

“So I already felt like the worst dickhole in the world,” Tony laughed, almost hysterically. “Now I’ve entered a whole new horrifying category of my own. God, Howard would be so fucking proud—!” As the words left his mouth, Tony remembered his very explicit dream earlier and the alcoholic slush left in his system lurched threateningly. Only years of finely honed alcoholic mastery kept him from throwing his guts up on Steve’s blindingly white carpet.

Seeing the shuddering gulp, Bruce stepped forward, hand outstretched, “Tony--”

Tony backed away from his friend with a harsh bark of self-hatred, “No—just. Don’t—!”

“Tony, I’m sorry,” Nat said quietly. “I have to finish telling you everything.”

His laugh sounded suspiciously like a sob, “There’s more?”

Nat pursed her ruby lips, “Hydra’s interest in Darcy was in part to her relation to you, yes. But it was also because of a secret file they had from Shield archives that really made her an object of interest.”

“What was it?” Steve said, his voice was deep with unease.

“There was a file detailing experiments Howard Stark preformed on his son, using his own version of Erskine’s formula combined with his own Vita Radiation. The results of which seem to be hereditary.”

“No.” Tony rejected her words. “No way. Howard may not have been father of the year but he wouldn’t have  _experimented_  on me.” He searched Natasha’s face for any hint she was bullshitting him. “Nat--”

“I’ve sent the files to Jarvis so you can look at them yourself.”

“I would have known wouldn’t I?” Tony exploded, “I’ve done my own fucking tests when I had palladium poisoning. Something would have shown up if my father made me into some loser version of his goddamn hero! Cause here I am, not--” He flapped a hand in Steve’s direction, “—that.”

Steve looked pained but kept silent.

“You have to know that each attempt to recreate the Super Soldier Serum has met with varying results.” Natasha very deliberately did not look at Bruce nor Bucky. “You know the serum was only supposed to emphasize the user’s key personality traits.”

Tony snorted, “Well no wonder my father thought I was a waste of time. I enhanced my alcohol tolerance and ability to piss people off.”

Clint literally had to bite his lip to keep from replying inappropriately. Now was not the time.

“So to summarize, I’ve basically raped a girl. Turns out she’s my daughter. I watched her mother die last year, trying to save my life even, and had no fucking clue. My dad experimented on me and those experiments are the reason we became targets in Hydra’s sick experiment.” Tony’s lips were white as he paced in a tight circle. “Did I get everything? Is there anything else you want to add to this nightmare?”

Natasha looked angry and Tony recoiled as if he couldn’t believe the gall.

“Look, I get that this is unbelievably fucked up,” She started. “But you have to realize that back there--? When you were all Hydra prisoners, none of you had a choice. The drug they used erased consent between  _both_  parties. It was specifically tailored to reduce you to a primal biological imperative. It didn’t care who you were to each other. Whether you were strangers, friends or not.”

Bruce spoke up suddenly, and the shock of his voice was enough to gain everyone’s attention, “Not that I really want to examine this closer or anything but you’re absolutely sure that Darcy isn’t pregnant?”

“Oh god, Brucie,” Tony groaned. “Really, buddy. Not helping.”

Pursing his lips in a sympathetic wince, Bruce shrugged. “You think you’re the only one horrified at the implications?”

“She’s not pregnant.” Natasha confirmed. “That was one of the first things that the medical team made sure of when the situation became clear.”

“So then, I don’t understand,” Steve spoke up. “Why did Hydra go to all that trouble?”

“Experimentation, largely.” She answered. “I think they expected to have you all for much longer than they did.”

“So Hydra . . . and Loki . . . wanted Lady Darcy to have our offspring?” Thor spoke up in a hesitant manner.

“A child of enhanced parentage, yes.” Nat nodded seriously.

That didn’t compute, Tony looked like he was trying to work something out. “So why didn’t they capture you? Hydra kidnapped the rest of us with emasculating efficiency. Why didn’t they take you as well? You have suspicious abilities. Uh,” He backpedaled, “Not that I want to . . . you know . . . with you or anything. But your kids would likely be sufficiently terrifying.”

Natasha’s face seemed extra blank. “It wouldn’t have been any benefit to them. I can’t give them what they need for their experiment. The Red Room removed my reproductive organs.”

Clint pressed his lips together at her admission. He’d known her secret, he just hadn’t applied it to their situation. He had to give grudging kudos to Tony for even putting the pieces together.

“Holy shit.” The breath exploded from Tony’s lips. There wasn’t anything more he could say. Saying he was sorry wasn’t likely to make any difference, and the assassin didn’t look like she would accept platitudes.

She dipped her head, “There has to be more to what we’re seeing from the evidence, obviously. I expect Hydra’s not finished so we have to be ready for the challenge. Darcy Lewis needs to be protected. The team needs to recover and anticipate their next move. We need allies to strengthen our position.” Natasha looked at each of them in turn, her gaze non-judgmental but challenging at the same time. “In the meantime, Sam Wilson has agreed to provide counselling to the team. Appointments are mandatory. If you don’t want to speak to Sam he has arranged two trusted friends to be on site, who can provide the same level of confidential service.”

“The only counsel I want to have right now is with my 40 year old Scotch,” Tony remarked. “Are we done?”

Nat nodded. There was nothing constructive they could accomplish now, not while everyone was still reeling from the latest news.

Tony left the room without another word.

Bruce waited until the door to Steve’s apartment was fully closed before he made his request, “Jarvis?” He said quietly, “Will you let me know if Tony needs intervention?”

“Yes, Master Bruce.”

And with the accent, it was all Bruce could do but huff a tired sigh. He would have to reprogram that nickname out of Jarvis’ dialogue. It was really not appropriate at times.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maya Hanson and Darcy Lewis. Am I the only one who sees such a crazy resemblance? It's my own Canon.


End file.
